North King
blech
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The update is too long to go in this post. See next page.
End of Empires - N3S III
- Thread starter North King
- Start date
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
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North King
blech
- Joined
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- Messages
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Please don't spam. You've already told me to do that, and I prefer orders in PM form anyway.
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Okay, I know people will not be happy, especially as I'm posting without posting an update. But I'm letting you guys know this is definitely still alive. I'm going through a bit of a trouble spot in RL (no need to wish me luck, it's fairly minor, just distracting me from the update), so the update has been delayed. Obviously. All I can say is that I'm trying my best to get this update rolled out (I still have a long way to go), and I'm going to try and make it a good one despite everything.
On Government in Farou
A common perception of Farou is one of a land of perpetual instability. To the well-traveled and knowledgeable of other countries, Farou is famed for its rapid changes of government. In Hu’ut ‘Paron’ (Faroun) is a perjorative for indecisive or irrational behaviour. In Triluin, ‘Farui’ (again, derived from the word ‘Faroun’) indicates someone who deliberately and happily places themselves in precarious situations.
To be fair, that is quite true for the Kings of Farou. On average, they reign for only a handful of months or years before they either abdicate willingly (having either completed their goals or become unwilling to extend the period of risk), or are ousted in civilian or Council-led coups. Only a few of the greatest kings manage to last for significant portions of their lifespans- Maohuanaei Raelof reigned for over half a century before he passed away from old age.
There is no denying it- the Monarchy is enormously unstable. However, this is a fundamental part of the establishment of Farou, and over the centuries of its existence the nation has developed into a position where these changes of leader have little effect on the stability of the government. As it is, the Faroun have grown exceedingly efficient at the process of removing from power anyone who would seek to infringe upon their vaunted freedoms.
The structure of the Faroun government is really quite simple. There is a King, who wields, in theory, complete control. A skilled king will know that this power is only to be very cautiously and subtly exercised- anything rash is typically countered by the Council, or if the transgression is serious enough, the vigilantism of the general populace.
The Council is composed of leading members of the family houses of Farou. The rather tight bonds within the families typically prevents significant individual corruption in the hands of powerful senators. However, there is significant widescale corruption in the Council, each trying to improve the lot of their typically giant extended families. The results of this feature of Faroun government are multiple: there are many services and goods that would in other countries be available only to the elite, that are available to the masses in Farou. Public art houses, theatres, arenas, and more are common throughout the nation.
A successful king will work closely with the Council. Typically, the Council does not interfere too much with the actions of the king- the king will more often than not focus on large-scale or international affairs, while the Council devotes its time and energy towards domestic issues. However, when a king goes too far, the Council is quick to action.
In some occasions, the king will back down as soon as the Council pushes back. However, if he refuses, or if the Council:
Considers a transgression to be too severe to forgive.
Wants to make an example.
Is, on average, in a bad mood.
Feels like it.
Etc.
Then the Councillors will call upon the families that they represent to overthrow their leader. These changes of government are typically accomplished with minimal bloodshed. The Military, which is controlled by the Council, stays out of these affairs, with few exceptions.
Thus, from a starting point of a simple monarchy ruling in a culture composed of many large, tight-knit family groups, Farou has developed an elabourate system of governance, which results in civilian control of government, a history nearly free of despotism, a fairly high standard of living and education, and a turnover rate higher than any other monarchy in existence.
A common perception of Farou is one of a land of perpetual instability. To the well-traveled and knowledgeable of other countries, Farou is famed for its rapid changes of government. In Hu’ut ‘Paron’ (Faroun) is a perjorative for indecisive or irrational behaviour. In Triluin, ‘Farui’ (again, derived from the word ‘Faroun’) indicates someone who deliberately and happily places themselves in precarious situations.
To be fair, that is quite true for the Kings of Farou. On average, they reign for only a handful of months or years before they either abdicate willingly (having either completed their goals or become unwilling to extend the period of risk), or are ousted in civilian or Council-led coups. Only a few of the greatest kings manage to last for significant portions of their lifespans- Maohuanaei Raelof reigned for over half a century before he passed away from old age.
There is no denying it- the Monarchy is enormously unstable. However, this is a fundamental part of the establishment of Farou, and over the centuries of its existence the nation has developed into a position where these changes of leader have little effect on the stability of the government. As it is, the Faroun have grown exceedingly efficient at the process of removing from power anyone who would seek to infringe upon their vaunted freedoms.
The structure of the Faroun government is really quite simple. There is a King, who wields, in theory, complete control. A skilled king will know that this power is only to be very cautiously and subtly exercised- anything rash is typically countered by the Council, or if the transgression is serious enough, the vigilantism of the general populace.
The Council is composed of leading members of the family houses of Farou. The rather tight bonds within the families typically prevents significant individual corruption in the hands of powerful senators. However, there is significant widescale corruption in the Council, each trying to improve the lot of their typically giant extended families. The results of this feature of Faroun government are multiple: there are many services and goods that would in other countries be available only to the elite, that are available to the masses in Farou. Public art houses, theatres, arenas, and more are common throughout the nation.
A successful king will work closely with the Council. Typically, the Council does not interfere too much with the actions of the king- the king will more often than not focus on large-scale or international affairs, while the Council devotes its time and energy towards domestic issues. However, when a king goes too far, the Council is quick to action.
In some occasions, the king will back down as soon as the Council pushes back. However, if he refuses, or if the Council:
Considers a transgression to be too severe to forgive.
Wants to make an example.
Is, on average, in a bad mood.
Feels like it.
Etc.
Then the Councillors will call upon the families that they represent to overthrow their leader. These changes of government are typically accomplished with minimal bloodshed. The Military, which is controlled by the Council, stays out of these affairs, with few exceptions.
Thus, from a starting point of a simple monarchy ruling in a culture composed of many large, tight-knit family groups, Farou has developed an elabourate system of governance, which results in civilian control of government, a history nearly free of despotism, a fairly high standard of living and education, and a turnover rate higher than any other monarchy in existence.
On Family in Farou
Since long before the formation of Farou, and before the recording of any of our history, the Faroun have been a highly family and community-based people. Today, some still wonder exactly how this pillar of our existence came to be. Has it been this way since our race first emerged out of total barbarism? Was it adopted by our ancestors as an act of solidarity with their slave-gang comrades, against our onetime Hu’ut overlords? We do not know- the legends tell a wide variety of stories, and the Hu’ut did not think highly enough of their servants to bother recording details of their cultures and societies.
However, this is all history. In modern Farou, and throughout its recorded history, the organization of our society is simple: the nation is composed of the family houses. According to the great book of Faio Swaydafa, there are between 500 and 1500 families, depending on who’s counting- sometimes the boundaries between lineages are very unclear and blurred by marriage.
Now, closest to an individual is his or her nuclear family. Each individual family is connected by blood to numerous other families, forming the family house. These can often vary dramatically in size, some holding only a few dozen families, while the largest hold upwards of a thousand.
The family house is an extended community. In many cases, this can be taken literally, as some villages are composed entirely of one family house. However, today this is common only in isolated, rural areas in the Helsian Interior. Most modern cities in Farou are far more cosmopolitan in their population makeup.
At any rate, the purpose of the family house, other than existing as a functional community, is to provide local government, enforcement of laws, education, and so on. Families support their individual members, nursing the sick and elderly, teaching the young, and feeding the hungry. Each family house has its own unique, and typically loose hierarchy. The most consistent point is that all houses have one representative, who speaks on their behalf in the council.
Someone with light familiarity with Farou may be confused by this system. For indeed, Farou is famous for its libertarian ideals. Isn’t the elabourate family structure presented here the opposite of Faroun ideals? Codependence instead of independence, restraint instead of freedom?
Well, I could certainly understand why you would ask that question. What is needed is a better understanding of the Faroun mindset. Certainly, there is a huge amount of pride and bluster in our shouts of ‘Freedom!’, but deep below all this is a deep love of family. Thus, even when one seeks to follow his dreams and aspirations, one of his motivations is for the betterment of his family. To be free is to not be obstructed in your work to feed your family, not simply the right to work for one’s own benefit- though that is certainly a side-effect of supporting those around you. Goodness repaying itself, and all that.
Ah Farou, what a lovely, convoluted place. Thank Haiao that I can call this land my home.
Since long before the formation of Farou, and before the recording of any of our history, the Faroun have been a highly family and community-based people. Today, some still wonder exactly how this pillar of our existence came to be. Has it been this way since our race first emerged out of total barbarism? Was it adopted by our ancestors as an act of solidarity with their slave-gang comrades, against our onetime Hu’ut overlords? We do not know- the legends tell a wide variety of stories, and the Hu’ut did not think highly enough of their servants to bother recording details of their cultures and societies.
However, this is all history. In modern Farou, and throughout its recorded history, the organization of our society is simple: the nation is composed of the family houses. According to the great book of Faio Swaydafa, there are between 500 and 1500 families, depending on who’s counting- sometimes the boundaries between lineages are very unclear and blurred by marriage.
Now, closest to an individual is his or her nuclear family. Each individual family is connected by blood to numerous other families, forming the family house. These can often vary dramatically in size, some holding only a few dozen families, while the largest hold upwards of a thousand.
The family house is an extended community. In many cases, this can be taken literally, as some villages are composed entirely of one family house. However, today this is common only in isolated, rural areas in the Helsian Interior. Most modern cities in Farou are far more cosmopolitan in their population makeup.
At any rate, the purpose of the family house, other than existing as a functional community, is to provide local government, enforcement of laws, education, and so on. Families support their individual members, nursing the sick and elderly, teaching the young, and feeding the hungry. Each family house has its own unique, and typically loose hierarchy. The most consistent point is that all houses have one representative, who speaks on their behalf in the council.
Someone with light familiarity with Farou may be confused by this system. For indeed, Farou is famous for its libertarian ideals. Isn’t the elabourate family structure presented here the opposite of Faroun ideals? Codependence instead of independence, restraint instead of freedom?
Well, I could certainly understand why you would ask that question. What is needed is a better understanding of the Faroun mindset. Certainly, there is a huge amount of pride and bluster in our shouts of ‘Freedom!’, but deep below all this is a deep love of family. Thus, even when one seeks to follow his dreams and aspirations, one of his motivations is for the betterment of his family. To be free is to not be obstructed in your work to feed your family, not simply the right to work for one’s own benefit- though that is certainly a side-effect of supporting those around you. Goodness repaying itself, and all that.
Ah Farou, what a lovely, convoluted place. Thank Haiao that I can call this land my home.
A Later Popular History of the Republic – On the Conquest of the Barbarians.
By noon of the second day they had made forty miles, still in country that was familiar to the eye, specks on the horizon rendered into life, parched brown earth with the occasional shrub, eyes scanning for smoke, a hint of dust or the glint of metal. A rabbit jumps not far from the column, an arrow takes it high, it jumps once more, jerks and falls lifeless legs still kicking occasionally. A young man, dust covered without even the hint of a beard, trots over triumphantly and in a deft bit of horsemanship leans down, his legs holding tight as he scoops up the rabbit. Taking his position back in the column the young man still on horseback peels the skin away with his knife, bundles up the guts and flings them away, nobody in the column breaks to even look.
They ride on into a slight depression, water announced by the slight greenery of an otherwise gray and brown world and the occasional animal mark stuck in the cracked mud. More worrying is the occasional hoof print, and barely glimpsed in the undergrowth a mans print, obscured as it is the young man doesn’t miss it, he points making little running motions with his fingers to the man in the van of the column, a grim nod follows. Even the presence of the enemy doesn’t dissuade the men from filling up the pig skin water bags, empty since the night before, although half the men stay in mounted letting their companions fill first, the occasional nervous checking of spears held in place with handmade rope is all that betrays the danger they face. But cracking lips and thirsty mounts are more important, and precautions are already in place should the enemy show up.
A distant bellow of a bull, a sound holding a great deal of danger and potential reaches the troops in the depression. Those drinking stop, quietly they mount, stowing away the all important water. A pale white cloth floats down from the heights, enemy spotted, a few silent curses, a few grim nods and more than a resigned looks of men who are starting to grow weary of constant interruptions. Horses move forward, hardly any sound, everything tied down or covered in cloth to reduce noise, the occasional sound of rope being untied and spears being clutched into armoured chest the occasional clank as metal hits metal.
Silently they work their way up towards the lip of the bowl, shrubs obscure the horses but the men are forced to bend low to conceal themselves. The bellow grows louder, hearts beat in chests, blood rushes in ears so loud that many wonder why the enemy can’t hear it. A slight obstruction of vision ahead, the remains of what might have been once a wall or just a fortuitous rock formation, the troops don’t care the enemies vision is blocked as the first part of the enemy column begin to walk into view. The soldiers begin to charge, the enemy hear, faces swathed in rags swivel, the first spear draws a welter of blood the enemy reel, shock and terror. The enemy begin to drop weapons from leaden hands, caught unprepared, with family and livestock in tow they know they can’t fight.
The soldiers stop, drop of saddles, pick up the arms of the enemy, the better weapons are stuck in bundles already full of weapons, the weapons of poor quality are snapped at the spear head, the heads hidden snugly between the soldiers armour and cloth outer covering. No words are spoken, none are needed, the occasional alien unintelligible banter of the enemy punctuates the air, as frightened mothers whisper to equally frightened children. The young man slips of his horse. Politely he bows to the only enemy figure wearing something of consequence, a poorly rendered amulet of The Lady. Equally politely he states his case. “You Sir have interloped on the Republics territory, and your people have raided our territories, you have been warned and yet you continue to act against us, we had no interest in your land, but you have necessitated our interest by your actions, you are hereby now part of the Republic.”
“We-not know of your Republic nor we obey it.” Slightly broken.
“You have lost the right of appeal. You are now part of us. This is but a small part of our militaries, I know who you are but you do not know of me, I am a Senator of Seshweay.”
“Well Seshweay Senator you cannot us beat all.”
“I fully intend to, I have already beaten all your brothers, and four of your cousins, you should know this. They will vote on your rather primitive council for formal annexation, you are the casting vote, of course I don’t need you your heir, and soon-to-be successor will be just as useful.”
“Very well. I will vote for this.”
The troops ride of, some staying with the new allies, others riding of with the Senator seeking out new targets for influence.
By noon of the second day they had made forty miles, still in country that was familiar to the eye, specks on the horizon rendered into life, parched brown earth with the occasional shrub, eyes scanning for smoke, a hint of dust or the glint of metal. A rabbit jumps not far from the column, an arrow takes it high, it jumps once more, jerks and falls lifeless legs still kicking occasionally. A young man, dust covered without even the hint of a beard, trots over triumphantly and in a deft bit of horsemanship leans down, his legs holding tight as he scoops up the rabbit. Taking his position back in the column the young man still on horseback peels the skin away with his knife, bundles up the guts and flings them away, nobody in the column breaks to even look.
They ride on into a slight depression, water announced by the slight greenery of an otherwise gray and brown world and the occasional animal mark stuck in the cracked mud. More worrying is the occasional hoof print, and barely glimpsed in the undergrowth a mans print, obscured as it is the young man doesn’t miss it, he points making little running motions with his fingers to the man in the van of the column, a grim nod follows. Even the presence of the enemy doesn’t dissuade the men from filling up the pig skin water bags, empty since the night before, although half the men stay in mounted letting their companions fill first, the occasional nervous checking of spears held in place with handmade rope is all that betrays the danger they face. But cracking lips and thirsty mounts are more important, and precautions are already in place should the enemy show up.
A distant bellow of a bull, a sound holding a great deal of danger and potential reaches the troops in the depression. Those drinking stop, quietly they mount, stowing away the all important water. A pale white cloth floats down from the heights, enemy spotted, a few silent curses, a few grim nods and more than a resigned looks of men who are starting to grow weary of constant interruptions. Horses move forward, hardly any sound, everything tied down or covered in cloth to reduce noise, the occasional sound of rope being untied and spears being clutched into armoured chest the occasional clank as metal hits metal.
Silently they work their way up towards the lip of the bowl, shrubs obscure the horses but the men are forced to bend low to conceal themselves. The bellow grows louder, hearts beat in chests, blood rushes in ears so loud that many wonder why the enemy can’t hear it. A slight obstruction of vision ahead, the remains of what might have been once a wall or just a fortuitous rock formation, the troops don’t care the enemies vision is blocked as the first part of the enemy column begin to walk into view. The soldiers begin to charge, the enemy hear, faces swathed in rags swivel, the first spear draws a welter of blood the enemy reel, shock and terror. The enemy begin to drop weapons from leaden hands, caught unprepared, with family and livestock in tow they know they can’t fight.
The soldiers stop, drop of saddles, pick up the arms of the enemy, the better weapons are stuck in bundles already full of weapons, the weapons of poor quality are snapped at the spear head, the heads hidden snugly between the soldiers armour and cloth outer covering. No words are spoken, none are needed, the occasional alien unintelligible banter of the enemy punctuates the air, as frightened mothers whisper to equally frightened children. The young man slips of his horse. Politely he bows to the only enemy figure wearing something of consequence, a poorly rendered amulet of The Lady. Equally politely he states his case. “You Sir have interloped on the Republics territory, and your people have raided our territories, you have been warned and yet you continue to act against us, we had no interest in your land, but you have necessitated our interest by your actions, you are hereby now part of the Republic.”
“We-not know of your Republic nor we obey it.” Slightly broken.
“You have lost the right of appeal. You are now part of us. This is but a small part of our militaries, I know who you are but you do not know of me, I am a Senator of Seshweay.”
“Well Seshweay Senator you cannot us beat all.”
“I fully intend to, I have already beaten all your brothers, and four of your cousins, you should know this. They will vote on your rather primitive council for formal annexation, you are the casting vote, of course I don’t need you your heir, and soon-to-be successor will be just as useful.”
“Very well. I will vote for this.”
The troops ride of, some staying with the new allies, others riding of with the Senator seeking out new targets for influence.
Abaddon
Deity
This still got momentum?
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
I liked you better when you were Lord Aiken abaddon 
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Nylan
Characters Welcome
I hope this is still going in a month. Not only do I need to settle into Uni and see what my schedule is like, hopping on here would be like cracking open to the middle of The Silmarillion with no prior knowledge. 
That said, I like.
That said, I like.
Nylan
Characters Welcome
That's very true. I'll need time in any case to see if this something I could fit into my Uni schedule. There's nothing hated more than players who join and then can't keep up
