End of Empires - N3S III

I have taken some of your scribes to administer my kingdom. They are men who know more than all of my soothsayers and mystics. I am not afraid to admit this. - Arastephas the Redeemer, to the Union of Aya'se after the Satar conquest

You are the Light, my love. – Khatai I, to Aelona cuCyve


And so it transpired that after over a decade of uneventful conflict, the war over Subal was finally finished. The outbreak of peace had caught many by surprise. In truth, it seemed as though the Farubaida had scored a tremendous victory without actually winning the war, instead appealing to the Ayasi in the Holy Moti Empire. Though many in the Kothari Exatai would grumble that they had given away far too much compared to the losses they had suffered, cooler heads pointed out that, had the Empire entered the war, the losses they had suffered would have increased rather rapidly.

The Peace of the Had was fairly simple. Subal, as the Carohans had repeatedly insisted on, would be ceded to the Farubaida. The rebellious slaves in the Had would be given their freedom, and the option to emigrate to the Farubaida with full protection under the law. Palmyra would be freed, to pursue its own destiny, and the Exatai would give some small tracts of land on the east coast of the Kothai to the Carohans.

But the complications immediately multiplied. Few of the slave rebellions had been all that organized to begin with, and no one could really be proven to have been in one, or to have not been in one. Various owners denied that recaptured slaves had ever left their estates, while tens of thousands of slaves who had quite certainly never done so claimed freedom under the treaty. Under the watchful eyes of the Ayasi and the Farubaida, the latter hoped, they would surely not be denied. But the perils were too great, and the Kothari fought viciously – in the legal sphere, that is – to ensure they would not go free.

In the end, most of the freed slaves were those who were in rebellion at the time of the surrender, as they could clearly demonstrate their resistance by continuing to resist, and by marching as organized units out of the country and into the Farubaida.

The aristocracy in Palmyra found it devilishly hard to organize the newly freed state – for one thing, most of the people in power, outside of the rebellion, had ties to the old regime. These nobles had to be convinced, mostly by force, to release their slaves. Moreover, they protested (completely justly) that these had never been set out in the peace terms of the Had. Eventually, they reached an uneasy compromise, where the south of the Palmyrian free state held numerous slaves, and mostly maintained the traditions and institutions of the old Exatai. The north, being the center of the recent rebellion, took on an appearance much more akin to the old state of Helsian Hiut, where communes of freed slaves took over the agriculture and trade, and the masters were left either penniless, or driven south.

But surely the biggest problem arose in the south of the Exatai.

Sensing weakness, the governor-general of Hanakar began a rebellion of his own. He proclaimed that the Kothari Redeemer had grown soft, and that he had lost the Exatas that bound the country to him. His army followed him, taking the Satar settlements in central Hanakar, and soon threatening to take the old cities of Waipio and Hanakahi. Their raids soon threatened the province of Zyeshar, which itself had been unstable for quite some time – and as local militias in the eastern marches of Zyeshar defended themselves, some questioned whether they, too, might be better off without Kothari rule.

Nor was the treaty entirely painless for Caroha.

Subal had never belonged to the Farubaida, and had been lost by its immediate predecessor, the Empire of Helsia, in 434 SR – almost a hundred and fifty years before. The population of the city mostly spoke Faronun – then again, the population of the city was mostly bilingual, and also spoke Hiut. Though the urban Hiut tended to be more worldly and held fewer slaves than their counterparts in the rest of the Kothari, there still remained a large amount of business to sort out, and a large number of aristocrats fled across the border back into the Exatai at the earliest possible opportunity. Subal was suddenly left leaderless, and the city had to be put under a military governorship when bread riots threatened to shatter the new peace.

Meanwhile, without the prospect of war to unite them, the pieces of the Farubaida began to bicker much more than they had in recent memory. In particular, representatives from Dremai and Helsia began to decry the amount of spending that had in recent times gone to the Faerouhaiaou region, and the power that such a relatively small – and, the outer Helsians charged, cowardly – region wielded. This much alone would already have been quite enough, but the debates spilled over onto the Senate floor, and into the Pentapartite Council, which became gridlocked with frivolous measures from either side.

Even so, many took the opportunity of peace to rebuild and recuperate – in truth, the cradle of civilization had known death for so long that few born before the wars remained alive.

The House of Maolaia in Dremai grew from a humble hospital under the care of Aluoda Railief into an impressive complex – only rivaled by the doctors in the Sephashim. To its southeast, the Faerouhaiaouans laid the foundations for an enormous new Aitahist temple in Sahelihaia, one which, when completed, would serve as a monument to the Goddess, as well as to the universe as a whole – a central chamber, surrounded by great porphyry pillars, would be capped by a magnificent dome, with an enormous circular opening in the ceiling, to let in the light of the heavens. As of yet, of course, it was mostly just in the planning stages – funding had been slow, especially with the political turmoil.

In the Sesh, the Seshweay raised a series of new temples in Sies, and had begun to focus on the conversion of the Satar along the southern reaches of the river. But even as this new religious revival took place, influences from the Holy Moti Empire had begun to penetrate downstream: the literature and art of the Moti could be seen in the plays of the time, which started to make references to Kirost, or the Godlikes – quite un-Seshweay-like things, to be sure.

All the while, rumor had it that a certain peculiar girl was fulfilling some very peculiar signs indeed.

The long-expected death of Ayasi Fifth-Frei might, at another time, have threatened to send the Holy Moti Empire off a cliff. But the wily Ayasi had long planned for this occasion: making alliances with the Godlikes and the Grandpatriarch, maneuvering to ensure the accession of his son, First-Lerai. These first few years of First-Lerai's reign had surprisingly little to do – mostly, he continued the policies of his father, and attempted to patch things up with the aging councilor Tarci.

The conversion effort in the Upper Sesh proceeded quite slowly, despite the spate of church-building and the heavy investment into that region by the Ayasi. In Satara, especially, the large Ardavani minority somehow managed to remain fairly intact, even if the effort did chip away at their numbers.


Long treated as a mere foreign curiosity, it was now impossible to ignore the spread of Aitahism to the Spice Islands. The Cult had taken hold of most of the Leunan Republic, and though the Republic would have serious qualms about declaring anything the state religion, it was only too happy to patronize the Cult of the Goddess, building temples across the empire. One such place in the middle of Auona, the Birchbark Shrine, was a particularly beautiful example – winding paths in between a green forest, fountains at their intersections. Despite its relative inaccessibility, it quickly drew pilgrims from across the Republic.

However, the Faith was not so welcome in every country.

The quiet land of Rihnit, long relatively isolated, had quickly discovered the difficulties of opening up to the world – their ports brought merchants, who brought priests, who brought Aitahism. Alarmed by the spread of the religion among their people, Rihnit adopted extreme measures, declaring that anyone attempting to spread the religion would be branded and expelled, and limiting commerce to the capital of Agnato Gy Kbrilma. Such measures easily halted the new religion – but they had the additional effect of infuriating the merchant community, and moreover making their business quite difficult; soon, the country's trade revenues plummeted.

One people who still could trade at Rihnit's ports – and soon, the only people to bother – were the Opulensi. The leadership of the Republic of the Daharai began to sponsor the monk Sadar, whose Third Precept of Illumination was quickly adopted as canonical Indagahor. His disciples spread throughout Spitos, and soon arrived in Rihnit as well, helping to turn back the Aitahists, and coincidentally linking the two countries much closer together than they had been before.

The Daharai set about to the task of rebuilding their country, but found it more difficult than initially assumed. Many of the problems were not the damage from war, but the damage from peace – scars across the landscape, massive eroded areas where the forests had been clear-cut for timber, or burned off to farm marginal lands. Trade revenues rebounded, of course, but not to their previous levels: the simple truth was that many of their old harbors were gone, and though Epichirisi and Treha remained great ports, the tendrils of Opulensi trade had been taken up in many areas by the Carohans, or the Leunans, or even the Parthecans.

Perhaps to distract themselves from this, the Daharai decided to launch a war against the breakaway kingdom of Erlias. The tiny island state had few defenses beyond their fleet, and thus the only critical stage of the campaign was the initial naval battle. The Opulensi set sail from the black harbor of Undia, meeting the fleets of Erlias in battle in the straits just north of the island, and found it rather more difficult than they had anticipated, losing several vessels in the melee. Nevertheless, the odds against Erlias were simply too great for the tiny state to overcome; the Daharai quickly destroyed what remained of the fleet, and shuttled their army to the island. The city surrendered almost immediately.

But the Republic had grander ambitions than just this, intending an invasion of the southern sea. After allowing the expedition some time to recuperate, they launched south, capturing the tiny archipelago of Pekshi Pok, and using it as a staging ground for the logistical nightmare of a campaign against the Baribai home islands.

The expedition gathered native guides on the Pekshi Pok, but the guides proved of little value against the more prosaic dangers of the open ocean – waves, winds, and storm. The Opulensi ships, even the most seaworthy among them, had not been built for this kind of beating, and a number sank without a single survivor, in full view of their fellows. Despite the losses, they pressed on, and finally arrived in rag-tag fashion among the northern islands of the Varmoa Pok and the Beni Pok. Luckily enough, the Baribai did not have the organization to react in time – nor, indeed, did they seem to fully realize the extent of this danger.

After regrouping, the fleet proceeded down the island chain, taking one after another in bloody conquest, slaughtering a thousand Baribai warriors in the lagoons and beaches of the archipelago, in time subduing the entire island chain, and founding the colony of Mede to secure their new holdings.

In contrast to all this activity, the Leunan Republic remained fairly quiet. They built new roads to the north, intending to fully connect the River Centa to the capital, though surveyors quickly dismissed the possibility of digging a canal to further connect them. The Senate soon voted that the discretionary fund they had set aside for this canal would be just as well spent endowing a university, the first of its kind this far east. Modeled loosely on the Sephashim, it soon had started to attract scholars from the region as a whole, though in truth it still did not even match the Archives the “barbaric” Parthecans had established further north.

The Republic took a turn for the darker, too – the Senate voted to increasingly restrict voting rights, narrowing the pool who could cast votes in elections time after time. In some cities and provinces, the Republic had become much more a merchant oligarchy – which, of course, it had always resembled, but approached still more closely.

Parthe, meanwhile, though it had some struggles in this period, still had begun to assert itself in the crowded east. A series of voyages to the southwest connected the country more and more with the wider world – Parthecan merchants became an uncommon sight in ports as far as Epichirisi itself (instead of impossibly rare sights). The new power created new problems, as it had a habit of doing – the growing merchant community attracted a growing pirate community, which prompted the former to demand the expansion of the royal navy to deal with the new problems. Meanwhile, a concerted effort was undertaken to develop the far north, with several new cities being founded. With minor Leunan support, an expedition even prodded into the unknown, firmly establishing the trade route with Tarat for the first time, and even discovering a northern land before autumn storms and ice forced them to turn back.

Just to the northwest, the isolated kingdom of Lesa, becoming less isolated all the time, concluded a tremendously important pact with the neighboring Tanuot peoples. In return for a rather extensive series of rights granted to the Taunot, they came under the rule of Lesa, and the kingdom began to expand down the north coast for the first time. Trouble came quickly though – for their new border with the Berathi quickly turned into a problem area.

The main source of the trouble was the continuing expansion of Iolha into the region, an expansionist force that greatly alarmed Lesa, and prompted them to redouble their own efforts, deploying a considerable force. These forces all too quickly came into conflict with Berathi natives, Berathi mercenaries working for the Iolhans, and the Iolhans themselves – and sometimes all of them at once. Each side blamed the other for the skirmishes, but the truth of the matter was that it didn't matter. Indeed, all that mattered was the fact that the conflict between Iolha and Lesa – just barely settled anyway – flared once again. Fortunately, the two had avoided blows thus far.

Complicating matters further, the Savirai arrived on the scene. Apparently, Qasaarai had not been quite content with his northern frontier, and ordered a new campaign to subdue the Berathi in the name of the Goddess. The vast and well-trained forces of the Dual Empire put both Iolha and Lesa to shame – though the former would likely be able to stand against them in a protracted war, they certainly could not directly compete for land among the Berathi.

Caught in the middle of all of this, the Berathi seemed to be the butt of a long drawn-out joke. With enemies at every side, many of the remaining horsemen began to hire themselves out to whichever of the three sides was willing to pay the most, and fought their kinsmen for the lands they had once held dear.


The conquest of the Baribai had been quite simple, but the Daharai were hardly content. Rumors of lost continents or mysterious islands had existed for centuries, and the Baribai themselves seemed to have them as well – though most of the older Baribai dismissed them as legends, and told the Opulensi that they would be far better off staying put. Naturally, the Daharai ignored the savages, telling them that their own vessels were doubtless far superior, and could make any voyage. They would find the mystery islands without any trouble.

And to the surprise of very few, launching from the southern Beni Pok, the Daharai ships vanished into the waters of the Nakalani. After not hearing from them for several years, the Daharai had to conclude that their ships had been lost in the endless ocean to the south. Some time later it would be discovered that a few shipwrecked survivors had landed on the islands of the Ilfolk, to be rescued by the friendly natives, but they, too, had no idea where the rest of the expedition had ended up, if it was anywhere but the bottom of the ocean.

At nearly the same time, the little country of Jipha, apparently tiring of their great festivals of the arts, launched a huge expedition into the south, hoping to discover new lands and establish firmer contact with the Kayana states. Led by the king himself, this voyage, too, turned out to be a rather poor idea. Though they did not end up shipwrecked, the king died of disease on the voyage, and though a trade agreement had been signed with Parna, they had only discovered a couple of tiny islands in the south seas.


Tiagho was an old city – among the oldest in the world. Palaces had been built atop palaces, old crumbling ruins becoming foundations. Some whispered that beneath the old imperial palace lay a labyrinth of stone, a maze of rooms and homes built by kings stretching as far back as Ain and Glaide themselves. Dozens of dynasties had ruled the city in the centuries between: many native, but the Tollanaugh, too, and the Dulama, and perhaps even the nearly mythic Amure. But none had been quite so foreign as these Vithana.

The horsemen, led by their masked emperor, Avralkha, had scythed through the old Dulama; now, they sought to settle, to rule. Tiagho had resisted them for some time, but now it had fallen, and new as they were to the south, the nomads recognized its imperial pedigree. It would be the capital of their new Vithanama Empire.

Of course, adopting the native naming convention meant fairly little, and everyone recognized it. Even if they had the most powerful military in the region, the Vithanama were balanced on a knife edge. The Dulama remnant, to the west, had an impeccable history, and support from much of the nobility. The men who held Dula themselves were, perhaps, less legitimate, but they still could mount a serious challenge. And so they turned to perhaps the one person with as little “right” to rule as they did, whose only ancestral claim was power – Paitló.

Together, the two countries targeted the rump state of the Dulama, launching a campaign into the central valley, with the intent of taking Mora, and perhaps even Aeda. But they had underestimated the power of their opponents, who fought them to a standstill. The war quickly devolved into one that was reminiscent of the civil war fought on the very same ground – a grinding war of attrition, full of sacked cities, depopulating the heartland of this once glorious empire still further. It was a war wholly unsuited to Avralkha's soldiers, and as the emperor grew older – and perhaps, more canny – he knew it was foolish.

He offered the Dulama a peace treaty that seemed surprisingly generous, letting them keep much of the interior. With that, the war that had started as a fratricidal squabble over the throne finally came to an end; the Empire was split in four; and though raids would resume only a few years later, as Avralkha's successors coveted Aeda, the real conflict was all over.

Their attention finally free to wander, the Dulama seemed to take notice of their northwest frontier once again. Naran and Ther had held them to a stalemate for quite some time now, and somehow convinced the Noaunnahanue to join the conflict, raiding up and down the west coast of the Dulama. But even all this wasn't quite enough – the city of Ther had already fallen, and its king and people fled to the offshore island, and there were rumors that the Dulama might be constructing a fleet to challenge the Noaunnahanue and their allies more directly. Naran pushed the Dulama force back from around Dael while the larger Empire fought the Vithanama, but with that distraction gone, the Dulama attacked in a new direction, almost seizing the entire Vale of Gold with a single stroke.

But though the Narannue faced an increasingly grim situation, life on the western sea continued very much as it had for most of the peoples there. Noaunnaha had taken more and more of an interest in the far south, to be sure, exemplified by their entrance into the war against the Dulama. But for the most part, their colonies there remained a rather minor affair; they had only just started to press into the markets of the Airendhe, and the sheer scale of the piracy throughout that sea proved daunting even for the hardiest of their sailors.

Instead, the majority of their wealth still derived from the trade route with the distant Reokhar Eshai, and even this route fell under some threat, as tensions heightened between their merchants and the Reokhar ruler, Vashala. Evidently, their entrance into these lands – still fairly recent, after all – had run some of the Reokhar's own merchants out of business. Particularly irksome to the westerners was the fact that their own maritime commerce had ground to a complete halt, utterly outcompeted by the larger and more seaworthy Noaunnahanue ships.

For the moment, Vashala had been placated by various rich gifts, including a magnificent bejeweled vest, and a golden statue. Still, many of the merchants worried at the precarious situation, and decided to switch to safer paths in the south – hauling cotton to the Trahana, or gold, and bringing back tea, teak, and the occasional pet monkey.

At the same time, new lands were secured in the deserts just to the northwest of their homeland, as various Sorgh tribes began to settle among their villages. Despite the challenges, Noaunnaha looked towards a surprisingly bright future.

By now, the Airendhe had become a complete mess. The collapse of the Haina had not been replaced yet by a Trahana hegemony, and the pirate infestation had gotten worse. Paitló had actually done a surprisingly good job of regulating piracy in his own lands, extorting a “protection fee,” to be sure, but certainly his waters were better patrolled than any other in the region – and this from a pirate king. But unaffiliated pirate enclaves had been established across multiple coasts, lingering south of the Opul'annai especially, as the exile state had mostly focused on harvesting timber, and had almost no ability to regulate the commerce that passed them by.

The Haina colonies struggled less than might have been expected in the absence of a central authority. Certainly, the easternmost colonies quickly fell abandoned, but the ones on the eastern shore of the Airendhe had grown quite populous, and soon harbored many would-be kings, making alliances with one another, and preparing for what were seen as inevitable challenges from the Paitlóma and Trahana Empires.

Across the mountains, Dziltocampal had not taken well to the collapse of the Haina monarchy. Trade with the west had almost instantly become a dangerous proposition. Almost no one wanted to make the journey to the coasts, even if they could fetch better prices for their wares there; instead, links with the north became increasingly numerous, as the faith of Iralliam continued to enter the country, and new farms emerged by the riverside.

In the far north, the depredations of the Moti had left much of the Hai Vithana homeland devastated. They welcomed aid from the Karapeshai Exatai, whose new Redeemer Karal regarded the southern trade routes as critical to his own Princedom; he set up the new kingdom of the Eha Vithana, which retained much of the land of the old Hai Vithana. Of course, what remained was mostly the poorer parts. Only Amhatr had real value, as the anchor of a major trade route between the south and the north.

For decades, the Trahana and Haina dynasties had been linked by marriage; the peace between has lasted for so long that men of the peninsula's end scarcely knew what war was. But to the politically savvy, the end of that alliance hardly came as a surprise. The alliance had long been based on the assumption that the land would be the dominion of the Trahana, and the sea that of the Haina, and when this assumption was borne out, the alliance remained strong. But for decades, the Haina power had been declining, pirates had begun to run rampant across the Airendhe, and the Trahana had started to take an interest in merchantry and naval power.

On top of their budding rivalry, indecisive and ineffectual leadership had plagued the Haina for years. The country had difficulty holding onto its most distant colonies; the rise of the pirate king Paitló scarcely seemed to merit the bat of an eyelash from the king in Thagnor.

As it turns out, that was a massive mistake, and the Trahana were beaten to the punch.

Paitló had been known for years now as the canny pirate who had managed to seize Saigh and somehow build a coherent state around it with the sheer force of his personality. In the years after that, his reign had been marked by relative inactivity: the pirate king seemed content to live in luxury while his little Empire rotted away in decadence. But this was apparently illusion, and the king hungered for new fights. Assembling a fleet of a hundred warships and tens of thousands of soldiers, he set sail across the Airendhe, landing just north of Daran and stunning the defenders there.

The raiders fell upon the city in the dark of the night, setting it ablaze – looting a dozen temples and burning much of the Haina fleet at anchor. Before the night was even over, the greater part of the army marched inland, aiming for one target: Thagnor.

The defenders of Thagnor were better alerted than their coastal counterparts had been – but Thagnor was still relatively devoid of fortifications. The city lay almost open to attack; the ancient walls at the heart of the city remained intact, but they could only really protect the royal palace and the ceremonial core. Defending the rest of the city, as it turned out, would be a colossal mistake, as the Paitlóma troops simply ran over the barricades hastily erected in the streets, and though the Haina defenders cost them many lives in vicious house-to-house fighting, the outer city fell after several days of battle.

The inner city remained relatively secure – the Haina held it against all the initial probes, and a Haina army bore down from the northern frontier, threatening the rear of Paitló's army, prompting his withdrawal. But the damage had been done. Much of the riches of the city had been carried away, and certainly its position as an urban center had been shattered; only a few palaces remained fully intact.

Paitló's raid would prove to be something of a double-edged sword for the Trahana. On the one hand, it had destroyed a lot of the remaining legitimacy of the ruling family, and it gave the invasion a useful new pretext – they would be protecting the Haina, rather than attacking it. But on the other hand, one of the two greatest bases of their Jamanarr allies had been scoured; the Haina family had been sent reeling.

Still, the newly crowned emperor of the Trahana reasoned that they would probably never find a time quite so good to strike, and he mobilized his armies all the same.

Felidor and Lontan were the obvious targets, and the Haina troops there had been placed on high alert since the Paitlóma raid. But they had not really expected an attack from the Trahana quarter, and it took them by surprise; the Trahana put Felidor to siege, and a number of traitors, desiring higher titles in the coming Trahana Empire, opened the gates of Lontan, allowing the invaders in with scarcely any bloodshed at all.

At this point, though, the war turned considerably bloodier. The Haina assembled a new army near Thagnor, and launched it against the siege lines at Felidor. The Trahana barely reshuffled their forces to meet the new threat in time, and backed away in hasty retreat after being beaten on the field. Momentarily triumphant, the Haina advanced with the hope of securing everything north of the Bay of Morghes, but they clashed with the regrouping Trahana army once more, who rallied under the command of their Emperor, and defeated the Haina.

Meanwhile, the army at Lontan had rather more luck, advancing south along the coastline, hoping to secure Daran, perhaps with the help of the remaining Jamanarr forces. What emerged instead was a series of drawn-out sieges, none of them pretty; the coastal fortifications had always been rather more impressive than those inland, and they had been reinforced in the wake of the Paitlóma attack. Nor would there be any outright betrayals here – the Jamanarr and a few other assorted families delivered a few fortresses, primarily the ones they themselves held, but soon found themselves expelled from the remaining loyalist holdings.

What pushed to the forefront now was a sort of guerrilla war, as the various families turned on one another, fighting in the fields and forests, some remaining loyal to the old king, some proclaiming their allegiance to the invaders. No matter whose side one fought for, every neighbor was a suspect, a potential enemy, and the war grew correspondingly more vicious. The main military campaigns – the Trahana armies that would soon march on Thagnor from either direction – became almost secondary to this civil war – one that seemed worse than the Dulama's had ever been.

Eventually, the two sides ground each other down, Thagnor fell, and the Trahana had inherited the whole peninsula. The Jamanarr family received the title of king of Haina, but their power was essentially identical to what it had been before – they would all be subservient to the Emperor in Traha.

Many questions remained. How would the other realms in the region react to this massive shift in power? The Trahana had ascended perhaps beyond the Dulama; would they seek a war of retribution against Paitló? Would they attempt to take the outlying Haina colonies, which remained not only independent, but downright hostile?


The war for the golden mask had ended with a crash; the armies of Taro lay in shambles, and the host of Karal arrived triumphant in Atracta, the new Redeemer himself astride a magnificent white horse, with all the glamor of a soon-to-be folk hero. It seemed like a paradigm shift in the way the Exatai would work – the Accans had been defeated, their attempt to seize the throne crushed by the noble Satar from the steppe; Karal was a Redeemer in the old style, having won his mask through defeating all who were lesser. It seemed like it would usher in a sudden new age.

And yet, very little had actually changed. Certainly, the Tribe of the Scroll had been stripped of much of their old lands, but the one who would have been Redeemer was still a Prince. Zelarri might have fled, but the Accans still flourished, and they still had half the Exatai in debt to them. The principal dangers to the Exatai – as enormous as it was – remained the Holy Moti Empire; their only real rival in the north was the Dual Empire. And though Ardavan was the official religion, few were ever punished for paying no homage to Taleldil. Expecting these things to change seemed naïve.

Nevertheless, Karal had an energetic and fruitful reign, for the most part. He reaffirmed the legal code of his predecessor Avetas, and decreed the creation of a new judiciary to ensure his laws were upheld. The judges, trained at the new school of rhetoric and law of the Sephashim, quickly fanned out across the Exatai. Simultaneously, the northern Ming lands were beginning to be resettled, with the refounding of the ruined city of Beixang as Sartasion, intended to be a new stronghold of the Prince of the Wind in the north.

An embassy was sent to the Vischa, intending to avert any future border wars between the two enormous steppe empires; a new Satar quarter arose in the capital of Arokh. Here, they learned much about the far west, a source of particular curiosity for the Satar – they learned of the Adanai Eshai, a steppe empire that seemed modeled on the Exatai somehow, and that ruled “all the lands between the Vischa and the Mountains of Dusk.” Rumor had it that they, too, fought wars on their borders, against some northern Eshai, and against the Reokhar to the far west, a people whose lands touched the western ocean – or what many were calling Lands' End.

But the halcyon days were brief, and Karal died of a stroke at a relatively young age, paving the way for the succession of Taexi, one of Karal's oldest friends, and the Prince of the Wind.

Taexi was not his father's son. Laeng had been a King of the Xieni before he had ever been a Prince of the Wind, and the Prince had received a reputation as weak-willed and indecisive – though in truth he had simply been a master at playing the Evyni and Satar off of one another until the Evyni collapsed quite suddenly. But Taexi had little of his father's patience for political or diplomatic games, and he certainly did not have the tolerance that his father had – Taexi was Ardavani, through and through, and carried an almost virulent hatred of Enguntith and Aitahism.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, then, Taexi's first great move as Redeemer was to order the slaughter of Ming and Oscadian peasants who adhered to these two religions, massacring thousands of individuals in the hopes of purging those two faiths from the Exatai.

The Sheaving of the Wheat, as it would come to be called, had a number of unforeseen consequences. Some Ming and Oscadians decided to fight, spurring the outbreak of numerous rebellions, the largest of which took the city of Elova briefly before being beaten back by the Wind Princedom's own army – a number still remained, hanging in the hills and valleys. The economic recovery of the Ming lands, which had been proceeding at a rather reasonable pace, suddenly ground to a halt with the depopulation.

And most important, over a hundred thousand of the peasants, hearing of the destruction before it had reached their villages, fled the Exatai entirely. Many went northwest, ending up in the Setton there, the untamed wild that had been the borderlands of the Evyni Empire as well. More made their way into the khaganates of the Sharhi and Vischa.

But all this was immaterial from Taexi's point of view. He had, in a way, already accomplished great things.


A cold snap had settled in over the northern lands, snow blowing in from the mountains, the fogs of the central valleys clearing suddenly and the lakes freezing over in a single day. The northern war paused, ever so briefly, as either side collected themselves before plunging back into the fray.

In truth, the conflict's escalation was inevitable. No one had made the slightest attempt to negotiate, and Seehlt's war with the Cyvekt could only lead to trouble. Kintyra, the Fifth Aitah, had only just returned to Brunn; she only needed to look west to see her mother's homeland and one of her two greatest bastions of support threatened from all sides. King Ognyan seemed to be only a pawn in the goddess's hand, and his country would soon join the war. On the other side as well, the Gallasenes had finally rebuilt much of the damage from their long war, and looked north at the Cyvekt, whose king still, somehow, claimed the lands near Pamala. And behind these men, more men, still more shadowy – the threat of the Exatai loomed over the whole north, and none quite knew how Qasaarai V felt about his sister.

And with the spring thaw, it began.

Kintyra, the Fifth Aitah of the world, declared the King Ognyan her Flamebearer, and proclaimed that he would lead the forces of the Goddess in battle, not merely against Seehlt, but continuing onward until all who denied her divinity – and her mother's – would fall. She issued a call that would echo across the North – calling on the Faithful to come to her Flamebearer's side, and join a Holy Army that would march on the false king of Seehlt.

The King of Seehlt had no Goddess on his side, but solicited support from the High Ward in Gallasa himself. The leader of Orthodox Maninism leveled his own carefully worded decrees in support of the Maninist Stetin, branding the Aelonist Aitahists heretics and traitors to the path and the Light (excluding, of course, any mention of the Cult of the Goddess), and commanding any true Maninist to join in the war against the northerners – no matter what station or country they might come from.

But of course, the war was not fought with words alone – the two sides moved into action, and battle followed quickly in decrees' wake.

Under a certain general Ulich, Seehlt's forces struck north, against the Cyvekt colony of Frelesti. This was a pagan land – the last pagan land in the north, or near enough, a place where neither side had a natural base of support. They intended to corner and crush the Cyvekt force there, but found instead almost no resistance, apart from a few Frelesti militias that were easily swept aside. Suspecting a trap, Ulich proceeded cautiously, but nothing of the sort was forthcoming. It seemed as though the Cyvekt had abandoned the place to its own devices.

Ulich turned south, and together with a force anointed by the High Ward, crushed the Cyvekt soldiers that remained on the mainland. Reveling in their recent successes, the Gallasene and Seehltish commanders were soon discussing grand plans to push north – possibly to conquer the isle of Ederrot itself, or to repel the Brunekt invasion that everyone expected.

But the Cyvekt had not wholly abandoned the north. Their Frelesti garrison, several thousand in number, had marched across the north, gaining safe passage from the king of Ereithaler, who feared for his own safety in all this war, and had joined in the Army of the Aitah in the city of Brunn. They were only the most professional core of a force that soon reached nearly thirty thousand in number, all of which was directed with full fury against Seehlt – who had stripped their own border forces down to a quarter that size.

The first few battles were predictably one-sided. With such an overwhelming edge in numbers – not to mention ferocity and leadership – the Aitahists made short work of Seehlt's forces, who had been given the order to yield no ground. They would be made famous in later songs as having indeed given no ground, and instead being completely slaughtered.

In short order, the holy army reached the city of Seehlt, whose low stone walls fell prey to an enormous assault, the ladders of the Aitahists proving more than sufficient to surge over its small garrison. They pressed on, giving no breathing space to the reeling Seehlt forces, smashing them at Helt before they were finally stopped by the combined Maninist army at Lutan, an army which nearly matched them in size, and certainly matched them in training and equipment.

Nevertheless, the great Aitahists successes to that point had encouraged their allies and neutral players in the region. More men swelled the ranks of the holy army, arriving from as far away as the Kingdom of the Ethir, and the Dual Empire; meanwhile, rumors flew that the kings of Ereithaler and Anhalter might convert. Neither did – at least, not yet – but the king of Ereithaler seemed to join the war rather quietly, seizing the city of Orfrelest, and skirmishing back and forth with some of the local garrisons.

All of this had been happening rather independently of the other great war in the north – the battle for the Cyvekt throne. But the two were undeniably related: the Gallasenes supported the claim of Ephasir, the prince they called Satar, while Tydar was the favorite of the Aitahist lands.

Despite the sitting Cyvekt king's seemingly superior forces, Ephasir started the war with a strong position. Tydar was stretched between what would be more accurately called three separate wars at once, and his force in Ederrot was roughly equal to that which Ephasir could raise – and Ephasir had the support of the Gallasenes, as well as connections from the Kern Sea.

Initially, then, Tydar was only too happy to remain behind the fortifications of Lexevh and Lemdeh, stout walls that would easily repel any assault that Ephasir could throw at him. But Ephasir used the freedom of his position to launch numerous raids all across the southern Cyvekt countryside, burning fields and villages, and drawing his cousin's army out of their forts and into the open.

It would later be said that before the battle, Ephasir had visited the Birthstone – the famous castle at Lemdeh, and descended into the caverns beneath, where he swam in the holy spring, emerging some time later with visions of victory. His confidence renewed, he rode to meet the army of Tydar just north of Lexevh.

The battle turned quickly. Ephasir's army, though slightly outnumbered, had a massive advantage in cavalry, with over a hundred Satar cataphracts, and several hundred light horse – the latter served to control the field of battle, while the former broke the lines of Tydar at the climax of the battle. Ephasir himself led the charge, and smashed Tydar's guard, slaying him on the field; the man who had almost been Satar had returned to claim his throne.

Keeping that throne would be rather more complex.

Despite his upbringing, Ephasir quickly realized that he would need to set aside many of his previous ideas if he were to remain the Prince of Bone for long. His mother had overshadowed him, and in an extremely deliberate display of emancipation, he had her confined to her quarters in the new palace at Lexevh – something of a step down for the woman who had once ruled seemingly half the known world. More seriously, he quickly broke with the wishes of much of his Satar elites, marrying the niece of the late Tydar – an Aitahist – and declaring tolerance for the religion of the land.

The conversion did not sit well with his Gallasene sponsors, who immediately sent him a series of angry missives – threatening to have him deposed, possibly by one of his own guard, who remained true to Ardavan. Even worse, it inflamed relations with the new Karapeshai Redeemer, Taexi, though as of yet it had not led to more violence.

Ephasir had finally gained the throne he had desired for so long, but now had to keep it. Tydar's wars had not yet been resolved, and it seemed like Ephasir would inherit those wars – his Aitahist courtiers demanded that they come to the support of the Army of the Aitah, while another faction demanded that they destroy it. The Lorean Peninsula had seen some raids from the Princes of Storm and Ice, and the Redeemer had done little to restrain them. Complicating things still further, Zelarri escaped from the palace in the black of the night, and none of his agents could find her.


Maps:


Cities


Economic


Religious


Political


OOC:

Much better this time around. Early orders make me a happy panda; I am feasting on bamboo shoots as I type this.

New players would do well to look at, say, the Vithanama or Dulama Empires as fairly stable entities with a lot of power and a lot of possible directions to take them in. For more of a challenge, the Paitlóma Empire has a lot of potential but a lot more enemies – and a much trickier start. The west is getting quite interesting, in my opinion.

Otherwise, I'm still looking for a good player for the Dual Empire, and I know like half a dozen people would be happy to help the person who takes them catch up with the backstory.

If people want help/feedback on their orders, I'm happy to provide, though it might take a while for me to get around to it.

Also, I'm still working on the satellite map, in case anyone's curious about that, though it's slowed down recently as I haven't had quite as much free time. I'm also looking into trying to stick the map onto a globe, and a language map, among other things. But again – free time.

And again, I could really use help with the wiki. Maybe I can offer shiny things to people who help out.

To: Holy Moti Empire
From: Hanakar Exatai

We know, that in your magnanimity, you support those who are just and right. And we know that, though it is not your way, you respect the rules and laws of others. By all the laws of Exatas, the Kothari Redeemer has forfeited the south; we bid you allow us Satar to settle this dispute as Princes, to mask a new Redeemer as is the way of old.

To: Brunn; the Fifth Aitah
From: Ereithaler

We have much to discuss, and request an audience.

Cracking good update!

Hmm, Nekelia died ages ago and Zelarri was imprisoned where? More importantly, why?

EDIT: Rereading it, it seems to say that Zelarri is Ephasir's mother? That couldn't be farther from the cold, hard, sexy truth.

From: Taexi, High Prince of the Satar, Scion of Taleldil, Fourteenth Redeemer of Man
To: Ephasir-ta-Cyve, Prince of Bone

Well done, my brother prince. Well done indeed. I am impressed. Your exatas is everything that we saw in you at Avetas' court when you were a boy. Everything and more. There were some among my entourage who said you would not make it this far. Zendan-ha and Itarephas, both worthy princes, made that claim in my war-tent. I will not spare you the particulars of their language, unfounded as it was.

Of course, I told them that they were fools, but that Ephasir-ta-Cyve was no fool. This is the grandson of Fulwarc the Terror, I told them, despoiler of cities from Talore to Pamala. The blood of Redeemers flows in his veins! Truly there is no more noble son of exatas in all my realms, not since the death of Karal, my brother Redeemer.

Then there were some that told me terrible rumors. That you had fallen from grace, and given in to the temptations of the succubi. I have seen the maskless Aitahists in Oscadia, my brother. I have seen them fight, and I have seen them run, and I have seen them die. One of their tribes thought to appease me with the most beautiful of their women. I am happy to say that such persuasions failed to sway a true son of Taleldil.

But what true son of Taleldil could be swayed by such women? Surely Ephasir-ta-Cyve is not such a man.

Avetas told me something when I was a boy. He was a Redeemer in his prime, then, and I had been delivered to Atracta just as the great towers were being raised. I was a hostage, and a stranger in a strange world. The customs of the city were alien to me, the language coarse and unseemly, and the god, oh, what a strange god he was next to the familiar spirits my fathers' fathers had long worshipped!

I was a boy, a dark-eyed, sullen, terrified little princeling. And Avetas knelt before me, and his unnaturally blue eyes stared into mine from behind the golden mask that I now wear. And he said, "The lie becomes the truth." I am sure we are both old enough to understand the meaning of this story. The strange city became the font of all knowledge and joy. The barbaric language became my holy mother tongue. And the unnatural god became the sole hope of the universe. The lie became the truth.

I have heard terrible rumors, my brother prince. But I know you will lay them to rest, and show the faithfulness of your Princedom at last. I will have the heads of all the Aitahists that can be found in your island. Perhaps not all; I will be satisfied with five thousand as tribute. I would set it higher, but I am sure you have already spilled much of their blood in your quest for exatas.

In fact, you need not bother sending them. For I have decided to come myself to Lexevh. Never before has a Redeemer set foot in his northernmost Princedom, and I am of a mind to change that. I hope you will receive me with the tribute that I, so graciously, request. Perhaps I will bring your beloved brother prince, Taro of the Scroll, though I fear his ill-health often leaves him vulnerable.

Farewell, my prince. Exatas.

North King said:

I'm also looking into trying to stick the map onto a globe, and a language map, among other things.

Click to expand...

Best bet is probably to try and make it a layer for Google Earth, for what it's worth.

Aww, I'd hoped that you were joining when I saw you post Sym. I know late classical era alternate world isn't necessarily your flavour, but it would be really cool to see you NESing again.

TO: Taexi, High Prince of the Satar, Scion of Taleldil, Fourteenth Redeemer of Man
FROM: Ephasir-ta-Cyve, Prince of Bone

The howl of the wolf is tempting, Taexi, but running with the pack has never been my prerogative. I have won what is mine, not on the tails of greater men, but of my own ability. My own hand. You never were the equal to your father, or his ambitions. Your success has come through cowardice and tyranny. And yet you compare me to the Terror, expecting tribute and fealty?

These lies remain as they are, Taexi, son of Laeng. Lies.

I owe you no tribute, for you are beneath me. I am the Prince of Bone, Champion of Taleldil. These are my people to do with as I please. They will not be sacrificed as some far flung pagan ritual. Their lives are protected, no matter their creed. You should learn from your predecessors that an empire is only as stable as the head is sane.

You will withdraw your raiders from my lands and return to sulk in Atracta as the peasants burn down your walls one by one.

Taro is my brother. My blood. Your efforts to use him as a diplomatic tool are insults to our honor. Don’t be a fool. He has suffered enough humiliation with a lesser Redeemer wearing his mask.

When you fall from your horse, I will praise whatever gods I must for this kindness. For the people of the Exatai, I pray.

May a better man inherit.

I'm tempted to take over the Dual Empire.

I'd like to keep my role as Orthodox Aitahism's guiding spirit though. :3

We're harvesting the goods. Now to get the trade going.

Luckymoose said:

Hmm, Nekelia died ages ago and Zelarri was imprisoned where? More importantly, why?

EDIT: Rereading it, it seems to say that Zelarri is Ephasir's mother? That couldn't be farther from the cold, hard, sexy truth.

Click to expand...

I thought Zelarri's imprisonment was explained quite thoroughly in the update. And I make mistakes, especially with convoluted family trees.

Not sure why she would need to be imprisoned. It isn't like she's that dumb.

Great update! I have some questions that I've PMed you, though, North King. Diplo also forthcoming.

Declaration by Kartis the Redeemer
Especially proclaimed unto the Holy Moti Emperor and those under his magnanimous protection
And also proclaimed unto the rebellious governor of the province of Hanakar

Hail, all ye unto whom this message be proclaimed! Know that we will crush the challenger according to the customs of Exatas, if this man be a contender, and according to the customs of degradation and execution, if this man be a rebel. We do assert that the Kothari Exatai is protected by the Moti Emperor from external threats and that any who assist the rebels in word or deed should be requited likewise by the Emperor, but we do not implore, in this immediate and internal instance, the exercise of the Emperor's protectorate on our behalf, intending to crush the rebels by the ample strength of our arm and the superiority of our right.

Furthermore, we declare that the customs of Exatai determine that there shall be but one Redeemer, and one Redeemer shall rule alone. He is no Redeemer who claims to separate part of the Exatai from itself, but is Redeemer only if he demonstrate his rule and full dominance over the whole. If he expresses no such claim, then be he but scum and a traitor and a braggart, and no Prince or Lord, let alone ruler of the Kothari.

We therefore ask thee, treacherous governor, dost thou claim to be the whole and right Redeemer of the Kothari, or art thou a braggart and but a partisan, and a rogue and but a mean rebel?

Let no-one suggest even a word or act in support of the rebel, or our retribution shall be harsh and swift upon him, and we shall consider that our Protectorate, wherein we are bound unto the Moti, has been violated in so far as such a word or act has taken place.

This is the Proclamation of the Redeemer.

From: Taexi, High Prince of the Satar, Fourteenth Redeemer of Man
To: Ephasir-ta-Cyve, Prince of the Bone

You claim to be the Champion of Taleldil, yet you allow the servants of those who would destroy our god to survive and prosper.

But it matters not. If you truly are His champion, your exatas will be shown.

Your challenge has been heard.

From: Redeemer Taexi, Prince of the Wind
To: High Oracle Tephalik-ta-Siaxis, Prince Taneku-vao of the Ice, Prince Aroech of the Storm, Prince Itarephas of the Shield, Prince Zendan-ha of the Moon, Prince Verathis of the Spear, Prince Mivha of the Arrow, Prince Karaphactas of the Sword, Prince Seraxes of the Wheel, Prince Vecco of the Sea, Prince Tephras of the Scroll

Our brother-prince has declared himself in rebellion to his anointed Redeemer, and refuses to give rightful tribute. He has consorted with and bedded demons, and he carries in him the blood of the anathema.

I call your pennants, your spears and swords, to the defense of exatas and Taleldil Himself.

Did I get my orders in too late to get a mention? Or am I that tragically insignificant?

Symphony D. said:

Best bet is probably to try and make it a layer for Google Earth, for what it's worth.

Click to expand...

I've got a few methods I'm going to try, but that's definitely one of them. Don't you need a rectangular projection to make it work, though? The EoE map is Winkel-Tripel, which... is unfortunate in the present era of the NES, because if the world were, say, off-center, parts of the map would look a little distorted shape-wise.*

Ninja Dude said:

Did I get my orders in too late to get a mention? Or am I that tragically insignificant?

Click to expand...

I'd already written the north by the time you got them in. You did get a map update (mostly under the shroud), and I'm going to include you in the stats update as well.



*Royal Cartography, Ltd. makes no claims as to the longitude or latitude of the currently revealed map of the EoE world.

Alrighty! I mean, if the minor things I had in my orders just sorta happened without much fanfare, that'd be fine too

And if not, oh well, I'll just bum around in the woods for another turn.

Also, happy fifth birthday, End of Empires.