End of Empires - N3S III

Memories, pt. 2​

I had a mouth, and yet I could not scream. My vocal cords tensed in my throat, and yet no sound came. Disrepair from decades without practice had left them vestigial husks, unable to form a syllable much less a word.

Despair. What use was the voice of a man who never had the courage to use it? And why should he expect to utilize it at his will now, when he had not the sense to attempt it ever before?

She turned her perfect, radiant face toward the crowd. Her red eyes shown like rubies, but they had a guarded opacity blocking her doors to the soul. Who she was looking for? My throat tensed again. I staggered forth from the sheer intensity of my constrained effort, and fell forward into the scarlet mob. Dust. Darkness.

I awoke, shivering with cold sweat.
 
Again, I'm going to try and restate that you are BARELY elevated from barbarism at this point. You are essentially tribal. This is not Edwardian England, for heaven's sake.

By the way, does anyone know where Cuivienen is right now? We'll probably need her back.

Just poked my head back into the forum to see if anything was going on, and I see something is. This summer is probably the last time I'll have the freedom to do this, so I suppose I'll get orders in. I'm finished with exams now and waiting on graduation. (Woo!)

Just BT general stuff, then?
 
Hi Cuiv!

If you'd like, sure. I'm updating this in a similar manner to LINESII... only faster.

EDIT: Wait, sleep dep. Wrong thread.
 
Words I, V
The Words II, III
Deeds II, III
Deeds IV, III & V, II
Portends I, I & IV & VII
Memories IV, V & I, VI & I, VII

Words V, IV

‘All slave shall be free tomorrow’ was a constant wish of the Old Masters of Faron. I have amended that to: ‘Slaves today shall be the masters tomorrow’ for it is not just to let those who mistreat their fellows and wallow in theological ignorance to live in freedom. Of the Old Masters of Faron I say: ‘They were ignorant of the force required to impose divine will, my will, and for that I castigate them but fear not my children for I love them dearly and in the doing have saved them.
 
You are getting silly, Fish Mother.
 
Basic Vocabulary

Palmyran Numerals

Na = one
Hio = two
Ria = three
Essera = four
Ente = five
Kesi = six
Pate = seven
Koto = eight
Nia = nine
Heka = ten
Theka = eleven
Hotheka = twelve
Hekaria = thirteen
Kaessera = Fourteen
Hekante = fifteen
Ekaksi = sixteen
Thekepta = seventeen
Hekakto = eighteen
Thekania = nineteen
Kossi = tweinty

Palmyran Colors
Efko = white
Avro = black
Kino = red
Mople = blue
Itrino = yellow
Rassino = green
Kafe = brown
Ov = purple

Basic Terms

Menyin = Animal
Urlak = Bird
Gaban = Person
Agitj = Brother
Ahan = Camp/Fortress
Yangga = Relgious Cerimony
Aybu = Friend
Igalan = Storm
Jabalng = Frog
Nirra = Father
Gaba = Daughter
Guda = Fire
Garrarri = Lizard
Gawu = Grandmother
Gabuju = Grandfather
Japbenyin = Stone
Olon = Crops
Wakgala = Money/Wealth
Akla = Paper
Onggega= He
Mird = She
Ung = Her
Ginu = His
Wihya = No
Laman = Insect
Giralin = Foreigner
Galin = Hu’ut
Dorrin = Road
Urduk =Sacred
Gurrun = Sun
Nin = Fish
Ngonggo = Your
Akgurri = Axe
Yaran= Boomerang
Garrardarda = Armor
Enan = Boat
Nendo = Horse
Mangh = Conquest
Jimirndirr = Sword
Bukbukgan = Halbard
Iro = Attack
Mangiman = Guard
Ajangarrin = Cutlass
Yiliyili = Spear
Neywornh = Ambush
Awuduwudu = Projectile
 
To: Kothhari Exatai
From: Palmyra


We propose an aliance between our nations. We beleive it would be good to share ideas and milliary tactics between our nations. Also we will the deal even better if you convert to Shrewism. We will help build up your nation should your nation convert and should you request it.
 
From: The Kothari Exatai
To: Palmyra


Fourth Redeemer Vetaxares is amused by your request. We will not convert to your shrew-worship, though we will not persecute its followers. Your traders are welcome in Athas and Triad, though we will not share our battle-secrets.
 
End of Empires - Update Eleven, Part Two
All Under the Sunrise

Five Years
280 - 285 SR by the Seshweay Calendar
179 - 184 RM by the Satar Calendar


Night fell swift above the river. The sun vanished beneath the horizon with a flash of pale red, and already the planets and a burnt-yellow moon were visible in the deepening blue of the sky. The lullaby of far-off thunder could barely be heard far to the north; the wash of the waters below colored out any other noise.

Like the tread of a hundred boots on spring-softened ground. Here and there they fell, on moss, on soil, on leaves still lying where they had drifted last autumn, now black and slick from yesterday’s rain.

The column was not accustomed to marching under twilight, nor carrying their banner furled and forgotten, as though they were the aliens here. As though they did not have a right to this land. As if the enemy had already won.

Zhang bit his lip. The devils had returned from the east years ago, spreading blood, steel and fire wherever they went. Word had it that their last allies in Shu had already succumbed months before. The Duke had been captured to the west of Ansheng, hunted down among the trackless pines, trying to escape, perhaps, to the lands without maps or civilization. They said he had been executed in a most terrible way, cut to pieces before his own eyes.

He wondered what would befall him. The Evyni had started to kill any who resisted, and their families, too. Those regions which had already fallen to the demons’ advance were full of collaborators and friends-turned-enemies.

After a moment, Zhang noticed his lip was bleeding, and swore quietly.

Onwards they plowed, along a dark forested ridge, with only the hush of the river and the growing song of thunder, as company. Even the birds were quiet. Or perhaps they had fled as well. Hard to tell.

As they continued, a village started appeared in moments through the gaps between hill and tree, a fireglow casting a thousand dancing shadows in the night air. Soon they stopped with a murmured command, stowing their packs and tying the horses to the pines. The mail of his gloves slithered as he pulled them on; the tip of the spear glinted in the lights.

Another word; the men left their train and slunk through the night, vanishing towards the village, always silent, ready. The far-off screams became clearer and clearer as they crept. Fire issued from fuel piled high against the sides of a great wooden building, which tottered drunkenly from side to side. To their credit, the Evyni outside were not laughing or cheering. They only watched.

Zhang checked the sword slung across his back, the spear. Others around him hefted their bows. The village grew in their sight, a nightmare writ large.

And then the arrows arced forward with a sigh, and the men broke into a run, cutting through the sentries before even their cries could escape, rushing through the village, towards that awful, awful fire. And the skies broke above them, and the ran began to fall thick and fast, steam hissing from the petering fire.

And then he was among them, these hard-eyed men from beyond the river, his spear slicing into the heart of one, then another, then it broke with a harsh crack – or perhaps that was just the sound of the charred wood of the house finally buckling. He drew his sword then, and whirled with remembered training from his youth, fighting no longer for honor or glory or even for Liang or Zhang, but for his comrades in arms and in the house.

They had taken the Evyni by surprise, but the easterners were not men to break. They bent and buckled, but they never broke. He cursed them as they came again and again in waves, and he wondered if they would never end – if the stream of Evyni reached from here to the horizon and onwards to the sea –

– and then just as suddenly, the tide ended, and the battle was over. They were gone now, and the captain was rushing among the townspeople to treat their wounds, to reassure them, and the men were with him or standing, like Zhang, useless and in a bit of shock.

Or perhaps that was only Zhang himself. He realized dimly that he was bleeding from a dozen wounds, and the world was going paler and yet darker at once...

* * * * * * * * *​

The conquest of Shu had passed almost without incident. The armies of the Duchy had already been overcome once; a repeat performance was a simple affair for Cheiyn, whose forces cut through the Ming quite easily. Simple carrot-and-stick policies quickly extinguished whatever popular resistance might have sparked, and after the field armies were mopped up, it only remained to secure the nobility and execute the recalcitrant ones.

Within the year, the Liang were alone in facing their foes from the east. The far-off Duchy of Deitang was apparently silent to their plight, retracting promised aid as they saw the hopelessness of the situation. Desperate overtures to the Evyni allies in Cotisi were all in vain.

This is not to say that the Liang simply rolled over, nor that the Empire had an easy time subjugating them. The Ming armies fought with a ferocity that more than matched that of their foes, and in many places were able to drive them back time after time. It was only sheer weight of numbers and grinding time that allowed the Evyni to finally gain the upper hand.

Naiji was the seat of Liang power and the greatest city of the Weinan valley, lying astride a great hill that rose between two forks of the tremendous current. It was impossible to assail from the riverside itself – the Evyni were forced to cross the waters and assault it from the landward side, losing much of their force in the process. In the chaos, the High General Albir was slain on the parapets of his last conquest, but the Empire’s forces continued without pause.

The Zairnate itself had already fled the city, but the remaining Ichenga fought in the streets and cellars, killing many of the Empire’s best men. Yet the outcome was never really in doubt – after a day of utter carnage, the greatest of Ming strongholds had fallen.

The Evyni struggled on. Though they found the conquest of Qilia needed far less bloodshed, their exhausted soldiers under General Yedach had finally reached the end of their strength, and the upriver regions of the Duchy fell to their allies, the Cotisi.

In the end, Liang had fought as bravely as they might have been expected to, and more besides. The Evyni conquest had fallen short of expectations – though of course they were unquestionably the victors. The Duchy Liang had vanished, and with it, so had an era.

A new time had come in the north – a time in which the Evyni Empire was a true superpower. Other nations would have to wait for its autumn.

* * * * * * * * *​

Seis. City of ruins, city of graves. Built on the ashes of ten Seises before it. The last traces of the old Empires of the Sesh or even the first Union of Ayase had vanished, buried under the silt that caked the ground after floods, or simply subsumed by the endless reconstruction. The city that had once been the greatest in the world, the heart of Ancestor Worship and the Seshweay people now lay prostrate before new masters.

Even as the old Satar Dynasty had fallen to its own ambition, the masked, demonic Satar themselves were still strong. When they started to flee into the deserts and steppes, the people of the Delta had wondered if this might be the end of these strange conquerors. But it was not to be.

Out of the north had come a new ruler, Macrinus, Censoratta of the Accan Empire. Perhaps even he was unaware of what he was doing when he forged a golden mask and claimed the mantle of Exatas, but his force of will carried the day, and he forged a new, very tenuous link between the nomadic Satar – who provided the great hosts of warriors – and the Accans – who were mostly mortar binding the whole edifice together. The two groups were perhaps only united in their brutality and their ambition.

Macrinus knew the Exatai could not stay together as it was – the broken remnants of one people and the civilized nation on its fringe. They needed a dynamic nation, an expanding frontier, a way to unite the dissimilar parties by military campaigns.

And so he drove south, leading a great army of tens of thousands, plowing through the Seshweay rebels in the Delta, destroying the almost pitiful garrisons the Moti had left in a land they considered to be all but conquered. Tensions were apparent between the two armies, to be sure, but he kept the two leadership chains working independently for now, uniting them by his own presence on the battlefield.

Thus, in the year 280, the Accan Dynasty had reclaimed much of the south – the Sesh, Bahra – all the land up to the very foothills of the Kothai. But his vast dominion was still quite insecure. The Seshweay Republic had been driven from its ancestral homelands in the Delta, but it still threatened on the eastern fringes, ready to pounce upon a land occupied by a like-minded populace. In the south, the Moti Empire still straddled the mountains, and seemed to be gathering strength for a new assault under their chief-of-chiefs Fourth-Gaci. And numerous little nations littered its periphery – Oscadia, Kargan, Gyza – all potential enemies.

Macrinus decided to split his forces, sending his steppe cavalry – the last Satar who could be called that, in fact – to screen the Moti frontier and defend the rich satrapy of Bahra and the upper Sesh from their depredations. The rest he took in two great armies to defeat the Seshweay once and for all.

But the fourth Redeemer was not the only actor on this stage. The Seshweay, under the spiritual rule of their icon the Aitah, were keen to harness the energies of the newly converted nations to their own east. In particular, Kargan beckoned, a rich city with a powerful ruler who history would know as the second Aya’se.

Aya’se had a nebulous background, allowing himself to be seen in whatever form his subjects wanted to see him – Aitahist fanatic, Karganite merchant, military governor – what have you. His rise to power in Kargan was meteoric, owing much to his charisma and the well-timed deaths of many of his opponents, and he was the first among the young nobles. The one whom Aitah would claim as her own.

The Aitah slipped away from her people’s stronghold to Kargan, crowning Aya’se there, and granting him the right to rule over all Seshweay people. In addition to the exiles, the new ruler could claim Kargan of course – though the city was renamed Aitahin in the Lady’s honor – and even the island of Hanno in the Lovi Sea.

The New Union of Aya’se was able to raise a new army of some five thousand to face the Satar hordes, but of course it did not intend to face them alone. Indeed, the Seshweay recognized their role would be to merely hold on long enough that the Moti would sweep in from the south so they could destroy the Accans between them.

The first moves of the war were made by this new Union, which feinted towards Seis, hoping either the city would rise against the Accans, or at least that the attack would draw out the Satar. But hope for rebellion was extinguished by the large garrisons in the Delta city, and the Satar army that emerged from Seis was able to beat back the Unionist forces with little trouble, vastly outnumbering them as it did.

With help from the Moti strangely absent, the Satar were able to push the Union back into the Parda Hills above the Delta. Macrinus then divided his forces again, with new Censoratta Aelaxavos leading one army along the coast, slowly wiping the Seshweay from the region, while he himself marched inexorably on the desert city-state of Gyza.

Gyza’s fortifications, barely repaired after their first round of destruction at the hands of the Satar, were unable to hold back the Accan forces, and the city fell with ease. Aelaxavos had considerably more trouble against the Seshweay. This latter foe had a huge advantage in mobility because of their relative superiority at sea, though the Accan navy was enough of a threat to keep the Seshweay from winning the war this way. Instead, they were limited to raids and skirmishes – enough to slow down the Satar, perhaps, but not enough to defeat them.

In short time, though, the war quickly swung even further in the Accans’ favor, as Macrinus led his army from Gyza into the Parda Hills. At the same time, a sudden betrayal caught the Union completely off-guard.

Sira, the desert state that carried forth the banner of Maninism and was a sworn enemy of the Aitahist faction, swept over the poorly guarded northern frontiers of the Seshweay states, taking Mahid with little trouble, and setting up camp just across the straits from Aitahin itself. In mere weeks, the Seshweay had lost their northern provinces: not the biggest blow ever, but forcing a desperate reshuffling of forces to ensure that the Sirans could not cross the straits and link with the advancing Accan forces.

The combined pressure was too much for the Union to handle. Macrinus ended up taking the mountain stronghold of Banh from its weaker, southeastern side, while a small detachment took the old city of Neruss from them as well. The Seshweay had lost most of their main centers of power, and were pushed back into a small region around Aitahin.

This first chapter of the second Union of Aya’se seemed also to be the last one: a short book whose promise was unfulfilled after a long wait. But one hope remained, one faint glimmer in the south: the Moti.

* * * * * * * * *​

Nestled between twin lines of darkly forested hills, Gaci tumbles down the valley in a cascade of buildings, at its heart – at the very heart of the world – a great church and the palace of the chief-of-chiefs. On either side of the city are the Kotthorns, heart-wrenching majesties and terrors of tremendous heights. But the Moti empire extends north and south for many leagues, beyond even these great mountains, the savannah and forests on the one side balanced by arid flats on the other. And yet, still, for all that, it was not the largest empire in the known world anymore. The glory which had once seemed all but promised to it was slipping between the fingers of each successive ruler.

Fourth-Gaci had followed his father’s wars with delight from an early age. To him, it was the greatest shame of their family that somehow Third-Gaci had managed to cast away assured victory and lose Bahra to the northern barbarians who the Moti had already beaten in battle once before. But desires aside, by the time he came to power himself, he knew that the Accans had grown stronger than ever, and that to challenge them with any hope of success, the Moti would have to bolster their own strength.

So he made a dangerous gambit of his own, pushing nor north but south, hoping to unite the struggling factions in Krato. Perhaps they could be under the banner of their own Council of Chiefs again, or perhaps they could be under his own leadership. It did not matter, so long as they marched north with him again to defeat these demons and win the Sesh once and for all.

As rumors flew through the south, talking of the rise of the Accan Dynasty and its supposed ambitions to rule the south as well as north, of the plots of some of the clans to align with the Dulama, who – none should forget – had officially taken the Kratoan nation under its wing as a vassal state, and even of an oncoming apocalypse, the Grandpatriarch of Iralliam called for a new Council of Chiefs to resolve the strife of the Kratoan civil war.

The Council was to be held in Lumada, a city firmly under the control of the Moti, but the chief-of-chiefs hoped that the clan leaders would be forced to come or lose face. In the end, however, many of them simply sent representatives, with only a couple of major leaders coming to the council in person. From then on, of course, the Council could only be a failure, and the Moti’s hand was forced.

Fourth-Gaci took his army and marched it to the city of Krato itself, propping up a puppet ruler from the Eso Soggo clan as he went, proclaiming him the new chief-of-chiefs of Krato, trusted to lead hand in hand with Gaci himself and defeat the Accan menace.

But by the time he reached the capital itself, it became clear that the Moti planned duplicity. They took the Eso Soggo clan leader hostage, proclaimed a united Uggor state with themselves as the leader, and seized the de jure Council of Chiefs that had reigned ineffectually from the city of Krato.

Proclamations could not end civil war, however, and the clans fought on, now fully aware of the danger that each other clan and the Moti themselves now posed. Fourth-Gaci saw that this war could not end soon, that it would be a drain on his energy and a massive time-sink, and that if he were to have any chance of beating the Accans before they consolidated, he had to gather what troops he could and march north, sorting out this mess later.

So the Moti emerged from the south with what was, to be sure, a large force, but smaller, less well-organized and less motivated than the chief-of-chiefs had hoped for.

* * * * * * * * *​

The Accans, far from being pinned between two foes, now had one huddled in a corner, far, far away from the other, who had barely begun to fight. It was an advantageous position, and not one that they were keen to waste. Macrinus sent his ships to attempt to link with the Siran navy repeatedly, which, while unsuccessful, did keep the Seshweay navy busy and unable to raid freely as they had become accustomed to.

Leaving an army to advance on Aitahin, the Redeemer took the rest of his forces southwards, where the Moti were advancing against Magha, harassed at every turn by the cavalry that Macrinus had stationed on that border. Fourth-Gaci still kept his forces intact and besieged the Silver City with some ease – but he was unable to reduce it very quickly at all.

In the end, the glorious campaign resulted in several indecisive battles with the Accans. Both armies were far too slow and unwieldy to actually take advantage of any temporary victories, and Fourth-Gaci finally retreated after sacking several more minor cities on the Sesh.

The Aitahist forces were able to hold out for a surprising length of time, but by the close of 284, Aitahin itself was starved into submission. A short while later, the Sirans were able to surprise them with a landing on the island of Hanno, and the last flame of the Union of Aya’se was finally extinguished. The Accans, by all appearances, had won.

But the new Exatai was only a decade old. Time alone would tell whether it could endure much longer. The war with the Moti had lapsed into a stalemate, and it appeared as though the two superpowers would be locked in perpetual war, neither able to extinguish the other. And though the Sirans had proven allies in this latest confrontation, the gods alone could know what they would be in the future.

What was more, a new threat had come knocking at the very gates of the Satar. The well-trodden path from steppe to civilization was being worn again, and reports had it that the outlying plains had fallen to a new force – the Vithai.

The Moti would have to sort out the sticky southern situation that they had plunged into, constantly wary of their northern frontier, and possibly of their western as well, as the Dulama still held some faint claim over the lands of Krato. The dream of an Uggor empire might be closer than ever, but it often seemed to verge on a mirage.

And as for the other new empires that this Age had engendered? They, too, would have to face many, many more reckonings. The world was still young.

Maps:



OOC:

Writing an update is always hard with an NES of this scale. Even in a mini-update like this, where I’m just sorting out seven order sets, the overall picture of the update can take a day to plan, and that’s if I’m not distracted, which I was for the entirety of the last month. Add in a rather nasty virus that I caught about two days after returning home from college, and perhaps it becomes clearer – if still completely inexcusable – why it took me so goddamned long to churn out a measly six pages of text.

But there was something different in this update. I don’t feel as though I need to be coy about this – five of the best players in this NES, five of the most interesting nations – were all fighting to the death. I knew that at least two of them would die, and it really does pain me to see those nations’ sagas end (though, of course, I don’t know if they will end for long at all; it would not surprise me to see the Seshweay or the Liang resurface somehow, soon). Truth be told, I like my players, and a lot of my godawful slowness in writing it came about because I had so much trouble killing them off.

But that’s over. I do hope that Masada and alex stay on in some capacity or another – as new nations or, at least in Masada’s case – leading his religion which is still very much alive and kicking. Kraznaya, I assume you didn’t have time to get too attached to your nation, so I hope to see you playing somewhere else in and after the BT.

For everyone, to reiterate the general outline:

This was a mini-update to resolve outstanding wars before the BT. The BT will be a two-hundred year update with two functions: 1) It will allow us to transition to a more streamlined stat system that will make updating easier still, and prices will be rebalanced so they actually make sense, and 2) it continues the NES moving along at a nice clip, because, while I do love the Iron Age, I don’t want the NES to dwell there for all eternity.

Orders for this BT should be general and vague. You can’t really direct your nation to implement specific plans when we’re rushing along at this speed. Just send me a plan of how you want your nation to develop along these lines (and please include ALL of these lines to some degree): Military, Cultural (including Religious), Economic, Demographic, Diplomatic, Miscellaneous.

I’ve already got orders from Cuivienen, Lord of Elves, and Slavic Sioux, though any of you guys are welcome to revise them.

As for everyone else, I need orders by 11:00 PM EST Sunday, June 6th. This is when the stars next align, and as we all know, when the stars are not in alignment, I have trouble, so please get them in on time.

The two hundred years covered in the next update give so much time that it is an ideal turn for someone to start a new nation on the periphery, or, if you like, PM me and ask if it might be possible to start somewhere in the unrevealed blackness of the map. It gives you a ton of time even if you’re taking an already established nation (or continuing along with something you’ve been playing for a while) to put your people on an entirely new path. Please use it wisely.
 
Just poked my head back into the forum to see if anything was going on, and I see something is. This summer is probably the last time I'll have the freedom to do this, so I suppose I'll get orders in. I'm finished with exams now and waiting on graduation. (Woo!)

Just BT general stuff, then?

Congrats! Glad to have you on board, if only for a little while. :)

This looks awesome.
Can I be the Hanakahi?

I believe ZeletDude claimed them a while back. On the other hand, if he turns out to no longer be interested, you're free to take them. I'd suggest PMing him and seeing what happens? Otherwise, feel free to start a new nation (if you have questions on how to do that, feel free to ask)! :)
 
A wonderful end to an IT.

*salutes*

They shall be remembered.
 
Fantastic as ever. Bt orders soon
 
Sigh. To be expected, I suppose. Hauntingly good update.

As tempting as the Vithai are, I'll take something else for the BT. Now, what that might be...
 
Well. This is pretty much the worst way things could've worked out as far as my plans were concerned, but I suppose I really had it coming, what with the treachery and the overstretchment and whatnot. I'll soldier on.

But just for the record: I'll bet the Redeemer never had those problems when uniting his people. :p
 
Nice update, I like the style. Looking forward to the game.
 
Oh, unexpectedly good update. I'm sure that the Accans will fall to imperial overstretch eventually. Shame I couldn't goad the Dulama into action though. :p

Which brings me to my next point. Kraznaya, do you want the Accan Exatai?

@das: I think the Satar have a fear of internal squabbling written deep into their racial memory...the legendary Satarai were driven out of the cradle due to just that. But now the two Exatai pretty much hate each other, so there's some disunity for you. :p
 
Oh, Thlayli, Thlayli, you spineless little bunny, the first thing you do after I betray you is to offer me your baby?

I'll think about it. :p
 
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