OptNES III: Foundry of Nations

Tick-Tock, the deadline is counting down... Can you make it in time? :p
 
I'm guessing no. GMs are notoriously unreliable. :p

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:joke: I believe in you. :lol:
 
Guys, stop pressuring him! The update will come, but it's got to be REALLY annoying to have people constantly pushing. Nothing saps morale more effectively.

Edit: Meh. didn't want that to sound self-righteous, but can't think of a better way to phrase it.
 
How can we plan alliances without update zero? Some of us aren't even placed on the map as I, for example, specified only a tropical or subtropical climate with access to the sea as my location. We have no stats, no NPCS, no maps, no feel for who are and are not regional powers etc. Post more about your culture if you want but otherwise I think we should hold off for the update.
 
I think I can solve your map problems, at least in part - the map is done. Here's one with region names:

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Edit: sorry about the terrible quality. I think I might have to use bitmaps or gifs instead of .png next time.
 

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Arexthia (2 NPCs)
Tengalu'kulchen (2 NPCs, 1 shared with Masia)
Masia (1 NPC shared with Tengalu'kulchen)
Valmere (3 NPCs)
Torrmor (2 NPCs)
Colomestrisa (1 NPC)
Hydragia (4 NPCs)
Movadimn (2 NPCs, shared with Jedorra)
Dai Khol (3 NPCs)
Jedorra (2 NPCs, shared with Movadimn)
Asgarnia (2 NPCs)
Charj (2 NPCs)
Irran Emp. (3 NPCs)
Michilimackinac (3 NPCs)
Yyaraskihn (2 NPCs)
ættkvísl hvala (2 NPCs)
Eben (1 NPC, and Avirria)

Bold is done, italics in progress, underlined fully planned. Racing to finish tonight. This is the final progress report.
 
Update 0
The Travels of an Engineer
6918 AY - 0 SE (6921 AY)​

Everything we were told is a lie.
Maybe it came through arrogance, belief that we truly were the only civilisation on this ball of ice, water and dirt. Perhaps the Council wanted us to believe we were the true beneficiaries of the legacy of humanity. Whatever it was, it was wrong. I see that now. The Avirri have done irreparable harm to the legacy of this planet.
We had the power to stop that.

I was the last to be caught. Serenn Tath, traitor, scumbag, criminal. Sentenced to death in an Avirrian arena. But it was worth it. Even now, in the face of inevitable death, I smile, for the downfall of Avirria will come through our deeds. We crept out of the capital, the plans for Avirria's precious Engines in our hands. Betraying the Shipyards and the Council, we sold the plans for the secret weapon that would have meant an Avirrian hegemony. Now Avirria is on an even playing field with those we called savages. Savages? Truly, they are not. The Council lied. It is not Avirria's birthright to rule the world. We are not surrounded by savages. What follows is an account of the civilisations of Ath.

Our Flight from Avirria
Arexthia
We had made a decision. The eight of us, senior engineers and two apprentices of the Avirrian Shipyard, were going to betray Avirria; even now, I will not name our co-conspirators, but let it be known that there were some, a resistance movement that opposes the Council of Avirria. Their identities are safe. We made a plan to seize one of the Engines from the shipyard itself - the Airship we had been working on as a public demonstration - and no less than six copies of each blueprint that we had made. We would go on to sell these to tribes around our planet of Ath, to disrupt Avirria's original plans of bringing more of these tribes under the Avirrian banner. We didn't know exactly what this would achieve, but we did know that anything that might disrupt the Avirrian imperial ambition at this point could only be a good thing.

With that in mind, we carried out our plan, and fearing pursuit, sped west over the sea, trying to avoid being seen; even then, we knew it was likely we had been seen. We didn't risk landing until we had left the inner sea, and eventually, when we did land, it was on a large island. We found ourselves near a river as we left the hijacked airship. Nearby was - to our surprise - a city! Far from Avirria, we hadn't expected to find more than scattered tribes and villages, but here was a city to rival Dar-Assina itself... Intrigued, we approached the city.

By a happy chance, the people of this unknown city spoke a language similar to Avirrian itself, and almost immediately we could understand the basic meaning of what people were saying. The people were friendly enough, though somewhat reserved and sceptical towards us as strangers. We soon acquired the name of the country - Arexthia - and directions to the office of the monarch, known as the River Lord. He seemed open to buying our negotiations; he told us that he had 'plans to pacify the other states of the island' - which clearly meant that he had designs on ruling the whole place himself. Nonetheless, his interest in our blueprints - particularly the raiding ship designed by our head engineer Ressis and a heavier-than-air flying machine partially designed by my apprentice - meant that we left with our supplies of food restocked and then some. Both he and we attached conditions to the trade: we agreed to his terms that we would not sell blueprints to the other major nations on the island - Anothis and Silaxia, the state's major trading and military rivals - and in turn, he agreed to only purchase two of the blueprints. We wanted to conserve our stock.

To avoid leaving a trail for any potential pursuers to follow, we left almost at once, flying west across an eerily flat and calm sea. Five weeks' travelling followed over becalmed waters.

The West
Tengalu'kulchen
It was near a landmass in the far east that we found ourselves then. The eight of us soon came across the country of Tengalu'kulchen, a nation based on a chain of large islands just off the coast of the large landmass to its west. Our initial impression was one of some pleasure. Expecting to sell our precious cargo to uncivilised savages, the people defied our expectations and welcomed us. We almost felt at home. That is, until we gained an audience with their leader - an event that was immediately preceded by a long wait outside his palace, guarded by two rather frightening guards with weapons with heads made of a black glassy material, which were very large and sharp. The dim room in which he resided smelled strongly of some sort of incense, and as our eyes adjusted, we began to realise what we had walked into. Besides us and the servants, the only one present was their king, or whatever title they gave him. None of us could comprehend the language more than just enough to do what we had to do.

The monarch of the Tengalu was a fearsome sight. A ceremonial head-dress, made from dark red, long feathers stretched down his neck and almost halfway down his back. His eyes stared at us - almost right through us. It made most of us feel slightly weak. We proceeded to make our offer, trying to make ourselves understood in a blend of Avirrian, Tengaluese (we knew not their word for it) and signing and gestures. It worked, somehow, but the monarch was initially displeased by our price. We told him that other potential buyers might turn the Engines against the Tengalu. It was then that he accepted; we sold him two blueprints for our Engines, 'the Raider' and another I had dubbed Marecraft.

As we left the presence of the Tengalu king, it was all we could do to not turn tail and flee. We spent less than a week more in the city, but in that time we stayed away from the palace and its fearsome denizens.

Our week spent among the Tengalu made us even more eager to leave. Despite our assertion that the corruption of Avirria could not possibly be found anywhere else at such levels, we were proved wrong. Our tour of the city by a local linguist left us staring dumbstruck at the injustices that were almost the equal of those found in our homeland: gangs of slaves working on Tengalu fields and building projects, while Tengalu freemen watched on; and in the torchlight that bathed the city in golden light after dark one night, we watched on as a slave, with skin lighter than that of the Tengalu - suggesting his origins lay further south or north - was led to the shores of the sea, ceremonially laid on the beach, stabbed and floated out to sea on a raft. We were told this was only one of their forms of human sacrifice.

Disgusted, we left the next day on our own Airship, moving south - the direction from which the Tengalu slave masters had said their slaves came from.
҉ ҉ ҉​
We first crossed the channel to the continent proper. We stayed for only a short time, however; the natives received us badly, some cowering in fear at our Airship and bizarre (to them) appearance, others yelling at us in their language, similar to that of the Tengalu. We presumed they didn't want us there, and left.
It later transpired that we had interrupted an important gathering. The peoples of that part of the continent, the Ekali, were discussing the terms of their alliance against the Tengalu threat to their east; as it happened, they agreed in the end on a loose confederation being formed. The Tengalu look to the lands across the seas, but as this new empire of Ekali'kulchen arises, perhaps their new sea Engines would be better defending the straits against a potential counter-invasion by their long-time enemies.
҉ ҉ ҉​
Flying south, eventually we began to see small villages once again, holes pierced in the canopy with farmland and houses enclosed in them. As we continued on, these grew larger. A particularly large one had a huge, open paved square. It was there that we landed, and were greeted amicably by the locals. We didn't take this as a good sign, at least at first; the hidden elements of Tengalu society continued to haunt us. Soon enough, though, a citizen cheerfully directed us towards the residence of the city's leader, through some signing on both sides.
It was a pleasant change from the Tengalu'kulchen; the city shared the same open plan as the grand Tengalu city of Ilki'tah itself, but the stones were a yellowish colour, not the dark pink of the mountains west of Tengalu'kulchen that reminded us of blood. On the whole, as we walked through the city, we felt the place begin to have an effect on our moods. We felt less like fugitives and more like free men.

The emperor of the 'Tunusi' dressed in the same fashion as his people, although with significant amounts of silver and even some gold jewellery, a style shared by many of the citizens to a lesser degree. He seemed happy to buy into the Engines we were selling, and gave us supplies, luxury goods and held feast in our honour in return for a blueprint for the Airship design we had been working on, as well as Ressis' 'Terracraft'.
We spent nigh on a month in the city, and picked up a fair amount of the language of Tunusi'chal (the Tunusi name for their country). After that, we knew we had to leave. Having repaired some minor damage to our airship, we set off over the rainforest canopy into the west. It wasn't long before we saw smoke from fires on the horizon: a sign of what we had learned to call civilisation. We prepared to land.

Masia
We landed on a plain. Northwards and eastwards, the rainforest continued as far as the eye could see. To the south and west, a vast plain of long grasses grew. Blue shadows of mountains lined parts of the horizon. In the middle of all this, slightly to our north-west, lay a small city, with thatch-roofed, stone houses. We disembarked and entered.
As we walked through the wide main thoroughfare, we felt a strange sense that we were being watched. Some sort of market was in progression, but as the eight of us walked past, clothed in flight-gear and blueprints in hand, each and every one of them stopped and stared at us. Having visitors was clearly an unusual occurrence.

We asked to be directed to their king, using the Tunusi language. One or two understood. To our surprise, we were told that there was none! Avirria had even had a king until recent years. We then asked if they had a council. That was more effective; two of their number pointed down a, still fairly wide, side-street, and motioned for us to follow them. We did so, and within five minutes we found ourselves outside a square, stone construction, being directed inside. It was partially open to the elements, a large hole in the centre of the roof letting sunlight in; in the dim evening light, we saw a circle of men, standing and talking. They appeared to be in session; we (rightly) assumed they were the councillors. As we approached, the two locals who had brought us there grabbed me, and one other engineer, by the wrists and neck, holding us in a deadlock we couldn't break. Other men moved from the shadows to do the same to the rest of our group.

Three of the councillors approached us. To our surprise, one went up to our leader Ressis, and spoke to him menacingly, in perfect Tunusi: "Who sent you?"
"Nobody."
"You speak the language of the east. Are you a spy?"
"No."
"Surely you must be? You speak their language. You carry their goods."
"We are not Tunusi. We have been there, but we are fugitives."
"From the Tunusi?"
"Further east. Across the Great Sea."
The councillor's jaw dropped.
"But there is nothing across the Great Sea! Only wraiths and ghosts!"
"I'm sorry to say you're wrong on that one. There are people there; until recently, it was our home."
We proceeded to tell him of the situation in Avirria, of its oppressive government, arrogance and relentless imperialism. When we finished, the councillor spoke again.

"So you left them because of that?"
"We betrayed them because of that, and left so that we would not be arrested."
"And so your business here is..."
"We have come to sell our ill-gotten cargo. Plans."
"For what?"
There is no word in Tunusi for Engines. As I had in their kingdom, I spoke this last to the Masi councillor in Avirrian.
"Engines."
This caused a stir among the council. Another spoke up.
"Like your bird machine that we saw? You could have been more cautious, you know."
"We aren't hiding. Yes, that is one sort of Engine, but there are others."
A pause.
"Release them."

After that, the negotiations continued smoothly. The Council seemed very interested in purchasing blueprints for two Engines in particular, my own automated siege tower, dubbed 'The Tower' as a working name, as well as the prototype flying machine my apprentice Dessan had named the Aerocraft. In the end we settled for what would have been a small fortune's worth of furs and leathers in Avirria, of many, bright colours.

The weather proved unfit for us to leave for almost two weeks, so we stayed in the town of Lano, learning of Masia's turbulent past - the region had been home to many tribal wars, apparently, before its unification by a revered figure known as Tama - and admiring the temples and shrines to many different gods, some abandoned. Then, we set off again as the weather cleared. We had been assured that the plains to the south were almost completely uninhabited, so decided to turn north once again.

It was four long months, interrupted by storms which forced us to land and shelter, before we met any more people. When and where we finally landed, the landscape was markedly different; snow was falling on these plains, and as we tethered the airship to a tall tree, we noted how different the flora and fauna were. Driven by gales and rain, we realised we'd come further north than we had intended.

Valmere Union
As it turned out, we had landed further from civilisation than any of the previous times. A ridge lay ahead of us, and Dessan, my apprentice and the youngest of us, ran up through the thin layer of snow to see the land around us. Soon, we heard him call back.
"A river! It flows north, or north-east - I can't really tell - and there's smoke coming from the mouth, near the sea!"
He ran back, yelling all the while. "I don't think it's snowing there! Too near the coast. I think I saw farms!"
We were all as eager as he was. We had gone too long without seeing other human faces, and it was wearing on our nerves. We re-boarded the airship and headed towards the town.

As we landed, we attracted quite a crowd. It wasn't the heavy clothing we wore as flight-gear, not this time: in fact, most of them were wearing the same thing, as while it was indeed not snowing, the cold had set in here as well. The airship was clearly a novel sight for them. They didn't seem sure what to think of us, for what reason we couldn't tell - until one of the villagers signed to us, gesticulating wildly to get us to understand her meaning:
Sun? she motioned, putting on a bright look and grinning. With it, she spoke the word in their language (which we later learned was called Edonian), trying to get us to understand the meaning in any way possible. We shook our heads - try as we might to understand the language, even though it sounded similar to Avirrian, if the language had some link to ours it was far distanced enough that we couldn't speak to them. Did she think we had arrived from the sun? Ridiculous.
Moon? - a crescent drawn in the air with one finger, accompanied by a scowl. A different word.
We shook our heads. She relaxed visibly.

We tried to reply, using the same method: "Take us," a walking motion, "to your leader?", standing self-importantly and with my chin raised. This was understood well enough; she grabbed my wrist and began to pull me away towards, presumably, their leader, or at least somebody arrogant. The others had no choice but to follow. Eventually, she stopped. Here he is - pointing to the figure who had been summoned and was now standing outside, presumably, his own front door. He looked tired, and while he took his time stratching and yawning, we looked around a little. It appeared we were standing in a circle of houses, two storeys high, made of wood or stone or, in some cases, both. More men like the first one came to stand with him, and it seemed like they were equals. The laughing of a small group of villagers behind us suggested that the man who had been dragged out of bed wasn't the leader - at least, not by himself. He was simply the best fit for my 'self-important' signing.

Disinterestedly, he looked at us, and pointed, then shrugged. The meaning was clear. Who are you?
Through signing, we explained where we had come from, what we did - machine makers, I signed - and why we were there. The last needed no sign. Ressis handed me the blueprints, and I began to lay them out on the ground - then, at last, the man motioned for us to come inside, and all eight of us followed him in the open door. Inside, it was warmer, a fireplace in the middle sending light and heat through the room and smoke up through a hole in the roof. A table was set off to the left, and we all stood around it. Another man - a slave, by the look of his clothing - took our coats. He didn't look like he had been treated well. We didn't comment, knowing that the eight of us would be fighting a whole town of people.

The trade proceeded quickly. We made it clear that he would only be allowed to choose two blueprints; this he did, offering us gold in return for the automated battering-ram and Raider blueprints, which we eagerly accepted. It seemed that this was what he had made his fortune from: gold mines were most likely situated nearby, and it appeared he controlled them. During our short stay in the town, which was called Lochspring, we found out that the men form the circle of houses controlled all trade in the Valmere Union; it was uncomfortably like Avirria itself, down to the organised crime which permeated the town and corruption of many of the councillors. Apparently, there were other nations nearby - Hassir, Tastang, Massak - but citizens had told us they were almost carbon-copies of Valmere itself and not worth visiting - advice we took, if only because we suspected we might need to land in Valmere again, and visting these other cities might warrant hostility.

Discontented, we made ready to leave. We boarded the airship once again two weeks after our arrival, and embarked on another journey heading west.

Torrmor
After a number of days, the land abruptly disappeared below us, the heavily forested land dispersing into a ragged series of cliffs and a rough, deep blue sea. We flew over a number of islands, night concealing any settlements soon after we flew over the first - but also making it difficult to find any settlements that might exist. We continued flying for some time, eventually deciding to remain airborne for the night. Day broke, and when we woke up we saw the light of fires below in the sparse dawn light, and smelt smoke wafting through our air vents.

We descended and left the airship, muskets in hand. Barely thirty feet away, the treeline broke, and noise, smoke and fires pierced the cold air. Strapping our weapons to our backs, we walked forward into the town, arms open in a gesture of peace. Almost immediately, we attracted attention, and not of the sort we wanted. Swords in hand, three men approached us, leading a group of townsmen and townswomen. They spoke to us, using a language that sounded enough like Edonian that we could understand the gist of what he was saying.
"Who in the ?? of ??? are you?"
Trying our hand using the more familiar Edonian, I responded. "Friends. Traders."
This the other man seemed to understand. Some, but not all, of the tension, visibly left him, and he responded fluently in the same language.
"Come with us. The Council will want a word with you."

We followed him, our treasurer Mazan taking the lead as we walked past well-built, sturdy huts towards one that was larger, faced in places with some kind of metal, cold to the touch in the crisp morning air. A plaque on a post in front of the building indicated its purpose in some unknown script. I stared at it, trying to glean its meaning, until the soldier - that must have been what he was - noticed my curiosity. "It says 'Grand Council'."
Turning back to the building, he went up and knocked on the door, six times. Someone called in the local language from inside. "The Council will talk to you now."

We entered the council building. Immediately, all eyes turned to our small group - although, in truth, our group was the same size as their council that day, eight of the townspeople represented in the large room. They were seated on a thick rug on the wooden floor. The embers of a fire sat in a brazier in the rug's centre. A man who looked like he might have been the leader of the council motioned for us to sit down, which we did. Then he called once again, and the soldier who had escorted us there entered the room, and also sat down. Each of the other locals present greeted him formally. Algan, always the most astute of our number, was the first to realise the significance of this.
"You're the leader of this council?"
"Yes. Did I ever say I wasn't? You were seen last night. We knew you were here - Torrins people have sharp eyesight."
"You're a soldier, not an administrator."
"These are hard times. Our independence is constantly threatened - we have to be vigilant in case of Defmari or Iscain attack. It is only logical to have a soldier in charge."
"So you cannot defeat them?" Ressis asked.
"Not definitively. We have won small victories, yes, but their presence on the other islands is strong. We cannot even completely remove the Iscain from our island."
"You heard we had cargo?"
"Correct. We suspect you might be able to teach us a way to defeat the tribes."
"In a way, yes."
"That behemoth on which you arrived?"
"Exactly. Things like it. You could beat back these Defmari and Iscains once and for all."
"But you have a price."
"Naturally. We sustained some damage in our flight north. You have wood and cloth here, in significant amounts - your houses are built of it," Ressis put in, before the council leader could say anything to the contrary. "We would have asked this of our last clients, but we found their slave-trading somewhat... unsavoury. We left as soon as we could."
"What did they call themselves?"
"The Valmere Union."
"Disreputable, but not the worst. If you had told me you came from Hassir, I would have turned you away. Valmere has some of these... Engines?" he stumbled over the foreign word.
"Yes. They gave us some of their gold for the blueprints."
"That bodes well. Better Valmere has that technology than the other cities. Especially Hassir. We won our independence from them over a hundred years ago, and we don't like the idea of giving it back. As such, we will buy your blueprints. These two," he continued, indicating the airship and Marecraft blueprints Ressis had placed on the rug, "will do nicely. We will supply the wood to repair your hull in return."
Ressis agreed to the trade, and firmly shook the other man's hand. Three weeks later, after some rest in the town - rendered into Avirrian here as Winterhelm - we moved south, heading for an island the council had indicated the Torrins people had traded with. Three weeks of sailing south over both land and sea brought us to the small island, well-forested and home to two large cities. We disembarked and headed into the northernmost one.

Colomestrisa
Upon our arrival and the discovery that we had come to sell goods, we were given unusually formal treatment - a military escort directly to the High General, or some such thing. For a military man, he appeared to live in excessive luxury; his home was filled with incenses, furs, gold and silver ornaments, among other items of value. A bronze weapon something like what we call an axe hung on the wall, along with many other sharp and dangerous-looking implements that betrayed the man's seemingly easy-going lifestyle. It was evident that Torrmor and Colomestrisa had traded, for we could understand and, to a limited extent, speak to the High General using the Torrite words we had learned.

Due to this, we were able to understand more of the Colomestrisan political situation than we could for other nations. As it happened, the Colomestrisans were on the verge of war with a city-state to its south - the same that we had spotted on the way in - called Simmastrasi. The Simmastrasi had not undergone the level of political turmoil that the fledgling Colomestrisan state had, and as a result, were better equipped to fight such a war. The Engines we were selling would serve them well in such a conflict. As a result, we were able to quickly sell two of our blueprints to the general - a design for a transport ship, as well as our automated siege tower.

I commented on the lack of temples in the Colomestrisan 'Imperial Centre' - or Hallerd as I had also heard it being called by some citizens. It would appear, surprisingly, that all religion in the area had disappeared long ago, during the infighting between the past city-states; either religious people had left, or lost their faith in the face of all the conflict. Either way, the Colomestrisans no longer welcomed faith in their lands. I told him that every other nation we had met had been religious in some way. This, I think, surprised him.
҉ ҉ ҉​
Regretfully, it is here that we lost the first of our number. Mazan had always been something of a profiteer; it was what lured him to join our expedition. Still, none of us thought he would do anything as stupid as he did. In the dead of night, Mazan took two of our remaining blueprints - one for the automated battering ram, the other for the airship - over to the south of the island. There, he negotiated with the Simmasian leader for large numbers of the sapphires that proliferated in the mountains in the area; in return, he gave them both blueprints. We found him missing in the morning. He had tried to return as quickly as possible to avoid his absence being noticed, but even then, the High General realised our numbers had dwindled. I am sorry to say that his foolishness led to his seizure and execution. We left, somewhat unhappily, reduced to the remaining seven of us. We no longer bothered to stop - that is, until we reached colder lands far away to the south. We landed there, having drifted across the western hemisphere for nigh on six months.
 
The South
Hydragia
I say landed; that would be glorifying what actually happened. By fortuitous circumstance, by the time we finally crashed, we had crossed the sea to the south of Masia and reached land once again.
A hole had been ripped in the canvas of the gas balloon, near the back, propelling us downward and forward uncontrollably. We hit the ground hard, our fur carpets and fur-lined jackets saving us from what could have been death. All, that is, except for Algan. He'd been thrown forward, hitting the front of the cabin with force, head first. We disembarked, held a short funeral service for him and built and lit his funeral pyre. That was probably what attracted the locals.

Soon, the remaining six of us found ourselves trapped in a circle of spears. The natives had ambushed us through the forest we had landed in, at the last moving quickly and quietly until we realised they were there and it was too late. The one who appeared to be the leader spoke to us in a series of guttural syllables, which we didn't understand. Our confusion was obvious to the natives, who proceeded to march us back towards their village.
They didn't get far. As we entered a clearing nearby, heading for a dense group of trees on the other side, a shot rang out. The leader of the group of natives fell to the ground, a spreading pool of blood in the short grass. A strange clicking noise came from the direction of the shot. Six of the natives, in fury, ran off in that direction to see what it was. What sounded like swearing began to accompany the clicking. We could only watch, guarded by seven attentive natives, as the natives edged closer.
At last, the clicking stopped. Another shot, and another of the natives fell. The five that were left continued on. Eventually they reached the marksman, although another of their number fell first. They began to drag him back towards our group.

A twig snapped. The natives in both groups looked up, and saw the same thing we did; more men with the strange guns, moving in to encircle the groups. As one, they loaded.

Click-click, click, click, click... click.

The natives slowly opened their hands, spears dropping to the ground.
҉ ҉ ҉​
The marksmen, after some discussion and heated argument, motioned for us to come with them. As we went, they continued talking in their language, about what we didn't know. It could have been us they were talking about; every now and then, one of them would glance over his shoulder, looking us up and down with some curiosity. Eventually, we reached the shore of a large bay, islands visible out in the distance. A large skiff lay offshore. We moved towards the craft, flanked by the soldiers. One muttered a guttural phrase, motioning towards the boat. The meaning was clear. Get in.

A short voyage of a number of hours saw us reach one of the islands we'd seen from the now distant shore. As we drew close, we began to see - and smell - a city. Even in the crisp coldness and dim evening light, the city was bustling with traders, farmers, trappers and fishermen plying their trades and selling their wares. We drew into the marina; a sign indicated our location as we walked down the jetties onto the shore. We couldn't read the writing, but one of the soldiers pointed at the sign and said the word. "Moinya." Ressis nodded to show his understanding.
We soon realised we were being marched towards a large building, fronted with monuments either side of a large, open doorway. Probably the home of their king or Council.

My suspicions were soon confirmed, as when we marched in the doors, we found ourselves in a circular room, a table of the same shape inside. Eleven rich-looking men sat at various places around it; other places were empty, presumably to accommodate members of this council currently absent. To our surprise, one of the men motioned for us to sit down. We did so, all of us with some question ready for these leaders. Ressis, as our leader, got the first word in.
"Where are we?" he advanced, speaking slowly and signing.
This meant something, at least, to these increasingly bureaucratic-looking men. Their faces lit up in recognition. One of them spoke.
"Ah, you are Avirrians," he said in a thick accent which we hardly recognised as our own language.
In shock, Inyis, Ressis' apprentice, spoke up. "You know our language?"
A booming laugh from the merchant - I was sure that was what he was now. "Yes, young sir. One of your people came here once. We teach the language now, to small numbers of people. We are merchants," he said, confirming without a doubt my assumptions. "Language is as good a tool as money."
We explained our own situation, and asserted that we had come to trade. Ressis spread the blueprints out on the table. We explained their nature and use to the suddenly very interested merchants' council.
"...Ah. Machines of war. These could be useful to us."
"Any particular target you had in mind?"
"You say natives attacked you?"
"Yes, with spears."
"There are more than just those ones. Four groups of natives, each under a high chief, plague these shores. The Kirarians were reported to be active in the area - you were lucky our soldiers were out on patrol - but we have large Lanossian tribes in the region as well, and the Oskains and Urikalans. Hostilities could break out any day. These would probably win us that war."
"So you'd pay a high price?"
The councillor paused. Perhaps he'd said too much. He came to a decision.
"Yes. Large cargoes of our best luxury goods. Incidentally, how did you get here? On one of these?" he said, pointing to the Airship blueprint he'd discarded. The soldiers had most likely reported the fact to their superiors.
"Yes, on an airship. We crash-landed here. Your soldiers probably reported the fact."
"They did. Here's the deal. Give us the Marecraft and Aerocraft blueprints, and we'll repair your Airship and trade you our goods into the bargain. Have we got a deal?"
"We have," Ressis replied, sealing the bargain with a friendly handshake.
҉ ҉ ҉​
Merchants are known for travelling, and Hydragia's status as a merchant republic meant it was easy to find well-travelled people. It was, as such, relatively simple to obtain a vague knowledge of what other lands were in the area. Our best bet, we decided, was to head towards the east, where another continent was reputedly located. Trade had been had with another nation there, on the near coast, and fables told of legendary cultures in and on the other side of the vast mountain ranges there. Best, there was a small island chain roughly halfway across the ocean that divided the continents where we could stop and restock our supplies. We waited for our airship to be repaired and then left, with renewed fervour for our task.

Movadimn

As it happened, the journey over what we dubbed the Southern Sea - for want of a better name - went rather smoothly. We stopped at the islands the Hydragian merchant had shown us on his charts, restocked our water and food supplies and returned to the skies. Around two months' flight from Hydragia - one month either side of the merchant's isles - we sighted land. Mountains rose from it, close to the shoreline like great teeth rising from the waves. We came in to land on the shore as the weather, having held relatively calm for our crossing - another piece of advice imparted by the merchant - finally began to worsen. We looked out to sea as we disembarked, seeing the dark clouds gather over the horizon and the swell begin to increase. Waves on the shore began to grow larger. We knew it would only become worse, so after some deliberation we set off. The weather systems drove us into the mountains, where the weather was calmer in the sheltered valleys. Still, it was the wind that drove us eventually to the doorstep of the Mobadi people.

We landed near the first smoke that we saw; it was a rough landing, affirming that our flight into the mountains had been the correct, if not our own, decision. The airship survived, though, and so did we; we set off down the valley to our left, towards the smoke.
҉ ҉ ҉​
Before long, we came to a fork in the path. One led down the valley, the other further up the mountain on our right, one of the highest peaks in the area. The smell of incense wafted from both directions. We discussed the options, and eventually chose the lower path. We continued for a while. The path edged upwards once again, and turning a corner we saw what we had been trying to find. A city - of sorts - sat in the foothills of the mountains, strangely calm in contrast to Hydragia's bustling capital. More people seemed to be leaving the city than entering it, and by the appearance of it we had struck lucky - this was probably an administrative centre, nothing more.

As such, we passed almost unnoticed as we approached the largest building in the town, probably come sort of government building. The sound of talking came from it. People dressed differently to those we had seen before - probably foreign emissaries - stood in a queue, which moved gradually as we watched. We stood at the end of the line, waiting for our turn. Behind us, another diplomat joined the line, dressed in light clothes stuffed with soft grey fur to keep out the cold. He shivered, breathing out heavily and emitting a cloud of steam from his mouth. Looking at us with some curiosity, he began to address us in various languages until he found one that we understood: Hydragian.

"Hello. Where are you from?"
He saw our faces suddenly light up in recognition of the words. Stopping his quest to find the correct language, he waited patiently for a response.
"Originally? Far north, beyond the lands you know. We left our homeland, and now we come to trade with these people - what is the name of this place?"
"We are in Movadimn, home to the Theratran monks and Mobadi herders. I am Asgarnian, from the north-west of here, on the coast. You came from Hydragia?"
"Most recently. Your Asgarnians know these lands?"
"Most of the continent is open. Travelling is easy in the forests of the south; we have contact with the Dai Khol to the far east, and the Jedorrans north of here also."
"You speak the languages of these places?"
"Of course. I have a gift for languages."
"Could you interpret for us in there?" I said, pointing to the building in front of us.
"Of course. It gets me indoors faster."
We looked again in front of us. The queue had disappeared. Behind us, various people tapped their feet impatiently.
"Best go in, then."
҉ ҉ ҉​
The chatter inside rose to a climax as we entered the room. Men and women dressed in the same strange clothes as the people we had seen entering and leaving the city - which our new friend and interpreter (his name was Naysis) had referred to as Melorn - lined the walls, sitting on tiered seats. One stood up, addressing Naysis, whom he presumably knew. They had a short discussion, and then the Theratran monk who had spoken addressed Ressis. Naysis translated for our benefit.
"What brings you here from the low places?"
Ressis responded, Naysis translating again. "We come to trade."
The conversation, in translation for both sides, continued as follows - this is a direct transcription, for my own convenience.
Theratran Monk: "What have you come to trade?"
Ressis: "That we will not reveal, at least until we know if you are likely to trade with us."
Theratran: "Very well. What do you wish to know?"
Ressis: "Are there any threats you would have removed from your borders?"
Theratran: "Not at this time. Our relations with the northern cities are stable if chilled, and the nomads to the south are quiet."
Ressis: "Do you want power?"
Theratran: "Power has never been something we have lusted after. If you talk of war, we have no need of your wares."

It was here that Ressis began to give up on the Mobadi council. In fact, he was just about to leave when I remembered: paths had led up into the mountains. Perhaps...
"How would you like to fly?"
҉ ҉ ҉​
In the end, the two apprentices and I had to leave Melorn and retrieve our own aircraft before the Mobadi were convinced we were telling the truth - but it sealed the deal nicely. The Mobadi, and particularly their Theratran order of monks and nuns, held the skies in reverence and the purchase of the blueprints for airship and aerocraft designs was, in their case, exactly the godsend they had been looking for. Expensive incenses weighed down our cargo hold in return; in addition, Naysis the Asgarnian offered to accompany us to three other major states of the continent, where he was also heading. He would act as our interpreter, first in Dai Khol, then in Jedorra. In return, we would transport him and eventually go to his homeland of Asgarnia. We set off then, with clear goals in mind, knowing that we would not have to plot our own course for a good while yet.

Dai Khol
With a navigator that knew the land, we reached our next destination, Dai Khol, in an impressively short space of time. Landing outside the capital city, Sakhon Prah Thong, we walked in, letting Naysis, apparently a known figure in the area, take the lead. Weaving through crowds of people, eventually we reached the docks, and nearby, a large, new-looking building facing the harbour.
"Almost ironic, it's so clever," Naysis remarked. We pressed him to elaborate.
"The Khollaedan are a people whose strength is in the sea," he explained. "This," he gestured at the palace, "is a clever symbol of that. Good bit of propaganda, as well. The palace used to be there." Pointing, he showed us another, smaller, but still impressive building further to the west of the harbour. "The current king had it rebuilt there. The nation looks to the sea, and so do the palace doors. Clever man. You'll like him, Serenn," he remarked in my general direction. Being the researcher and recorder of our group, I was always seen as the cleverest. Probably true, although I don't like to boast.
҉ ҉ ҉​
It must have been a quiet day for the Khollaedan king - almost immediately, we were granted an audience. Acting, once again, as our interpreter, Naysis introduced us, and the question of our origin was asked and answered. Soon enough, the subject of our purpose there was brought up. Ressis was about to tell him about the blueprints - then -
"Don't."
Everyone in the group turned to the speaker. It was my apprentice, Dessan.
"Why not, Dessan?"
"He's not the king."
"How do you know?"
"I don't, but I have a very strong feeling he isn't. Just trust me on this one."
"Naysis?"
A sigh from the Asgarnian. "He's correct. This is not the king of Dai Khol."
"Why the deception?" That was the other apprentice, Inyis.
Naysis sighed again, emitting a string of Kholla to the non-king. In response, the Khollaedan turned and walked over to a large tapestry.
"Hey, don't do th..."
Ripping off the tapestry, the Khollaedan moved to the right, to reveal a doorway. A thick bedroll lay on the floor beyond.
"...at."
҉ ҉ ҉​
"He's dying, Ressis."
Myself, Ressis, the rest of the engineers and Naysis had followed the Khollaedan - his name, Naysis told us, was Danyin - into the room, where they had found the king of Dai Khol. Naysis explained: the king had fallen ill several months ago. Danyin - the king's brother, considered to be a martial genius but otherwise unremarkable - had stood in at public appearances, made to look like his brother to prevent public knowledge of the fact. It would allow for a seamless succession, in which the king was expected, at least by Danyin and Naysis, to name his fourteen-year-old son as king. So we watched on, as the king breathed heavily. At last, he spoke. Naysis translated in a whisper.
"I... don't have visitors."
"They are friends of Naysis, brother. I thought..."
"Very well... they can..." the king coughed, "stay. But come here."
Danyin moved to his brother's side.
"May you forever keep Haithiam and Wodiam, brother; the kingdom always needs balance. You are now king, in name and in law, to the nobles and the people. Rule wisely when I am gone."
He sighed, and slowly breathed his final breath.
Danyin stayed silent for a long time. Finally he rose from his brother's side.
"Damn it! Why does this have to happen to me?"
҉ ҉ ҉​
We attended the coronation of Danyin, king of Dai Khol. Afterwards, he summoned us once again to the royal chambers.
"You have unfinished business with me, Avirrians," Naysis translated. "Naysis has, happily for all of us, convinced me that your trade is worth considering."
"Thank you, Naysis."
The king spoke again: "And so, now, all I need to know, is what exactly the nature of your cargo is."
"Blueprints, your majesty."
"Blueprints? What for?"
"War engines, your majesty. You're a military man. These Engines are the way of the future; you will agree as soon as -" Ressis spread the blueprints out on the polished floor - "you see them."
His majesty took a cursory glance at the prints. "These Engines are truly amazing," he said, after some time. "How many are you willing to sell to me?"
"Only two, sir. Will that do?"
"Do? Even two will give us great power. We would be extremely grateful to you for even two! Your stocks will be low? We can fill your supplies of water and food for you, in exchange for these. Is that enough? It feels as if we are short-changing you."
"It will be fine, your majesty."
The transaction occurred swiftly. Ressis handed over blueprints for both the Marecraft and Tortoise designs, and the king handed over a number of coins, informing us through Naysis that they could be exchanged at city granaries for the supplies we needed. The process was well-organised - it seemed to be a strength of the Khollaedan - and soon enough, we left, cargo holds full. One question continued to prey on my mind, however:

Who was this Naysis character, that he held council with kings?
҉ ҉ ҉​
We stopped for another trade as we journeyed west once again, with a partially tribal nation known as the Zay'na - the Khollaedan king had expressed at least ambivalence towards the group, more than could be said for the Gazna'i or Sanqidan neighbours of Dai Khol. It was a relatively short visit, negotiations proceeding smoothly and swiftly thanks to Naysis. We left for Jedorra soon afterwards, our cargo lighter by one blueprint for each of the Ram and Tower designs.

Jedorra
More than any other nation before, the Jedorran lands painted a picture of their lifestyle. Vast plains opened up before us beyond the Zay'na Mountains - poor land, with very loose soil. Trade caravans entering and leaving the city of Jedorra itself threw up clouds of dust. Somehow, large farms patchworked the land either side of the roads and rivers that split the land into parts. Only when we flew closer to the ground did it become apparent how it had been done - a complex irrigation system of channels and pumps, set up so that vast swathes of land could be farmed. The system must have fed the whole of Jedorra, allowing the existence of this large trade hub in the middle of these plains.
Further south, this was less of a problem - the land grew lusher, the number of trees growing as we looked further south towards Jedorra's sister cities of Ganthari and Sialamesc. According to Naysis, 'sister cities' was in fact an apt description. All three cities - each of which held part of the fertile land south of Jedorra - fought like cats. It wouldn't be wise to visit all three, particularly as we planned to stop in Jedorra again after we had visited Asgarnia.

As we came in to land, a crowd gathered in the field we'd chosen in which to tether outside the city. They'd known of our imminent arrival - Naysis had been in Movadimn with another diplomat, who he'd sent back with a message to the city's king. As we watched, the crowd parted and five guards walked through, forming a loose pentagon around us. Each carried a crossbow in their hands and a large shield on their back. Ressis and I exchanged a glance. The crossbow had been introduced in Avirria eight hundred years ago - the royal marshal of the time had gone travelling and - apparently - conceived the idea of the crossbow on his travels. Perhaps it had come from here. A quick check with one of the guards - they were being marched through the city gates now - confirmed it. Jedorra had had crossbows for over a thousand years. The problem was that the other cities had as well, keeping them in a cycle of endless wars and truces.
We were about to radically alter the situation.
҉ ҉ ҉​
The Jedorran king looked us up and down, trying to perceive what it was that we had to show him. We'd been shown into the king's audience chamber with only a short announcement - "The Engineers of Avirria, milord." - and then we were shown in. Then we waited for the king to speak, and Naysis to translate.

At last, he spoke. "Avirrians? One visited here, a long time ago or so it is said. Show me what you have brought to Jedorra." This was Naysis' translation of his words.
"Assistance, lord. Machines that might end your war against your neighbours."
"I see no soldiers or siege weaponry. Show me what it is that you call assistance."
"Very well." As we had so many times before, Ressis and I arranged the blueprints we had brought, this time on a board which the apprentices held up to show the king. He had a look of understanding on his face now.
"Engines of war. These truly do have power; you didn't lie. Very well, make your offer. Never let it be said that Jedorra did not receive merchants well."
"Two of these, king of Jedorra. In return, whatever you see fit. Goods perhaps, something which we can use on our journeys, which we do not expect to end except in our deaths."
"A fair deal. How is it that you arrived? One of these Engines, no doubt."
"You are correct. This one, which sails through the air." Ressis pointed to the airship blueprint.
"Then we will have the plans for that design. And also... this one," the king said, indicating the 'tortoise' blueprint. "It will be the scourge of our enemies. In return, Avirrian, you will be richly rewarded. Our finest weapon-smiths will re-equip your ship with our finest crossbows, and in addition we will build for each of you, except our friend Naysis, who already owns a large amount of Jedorran weaponry, a crossbow from the finest steel we have."
We considered his offer for some time.
"Very well," Ressis said at last. "We accept."
҉ ҉ ҉​
We went in later that week to watch the smiths at work on our payment. We were asked before we went in not to reveal any of the closely guarded techniques, so I will not, but they are, suffice it to say, far more advanced than existing Avirrian ones. As such, we expected an excellent end product in both the crossbows and the Jedorran version of the Engines they were now working on. It was an advantage that they sorely needed, given the endlessly brewing state of war in the region.

Even as we left, headed across the plains towards a lush area on the coast on which Naysis' homeland was situated, we saw men marching, headed to fight another futile three-way battle. Little did they know, we had just set the cat amongst the... well, lesser cats, I suppose.

Asgarnia
We landed in Asgarnia uneventfully, Naysis leaving us with a friend of his while he went about some buisness he had left unfinished on his journey to Movadimn. We wandered around the capital, Asgarn, for several days. Naysis' friend acted as a translator for our group as well as a guide, taking us to various places in Asgarn. We noticed particularly that most citizens seemed to carry weapons, and often a group of thirty or forty warrors would head out of the city gates or towards the docks, decked in armour and weaponry. Many were mounted, and all wore light armour. When we asked our translator what they were doing, he told us of the raids that Asgarnians often made against their neighbours, for the love of their country which they exclusiely worshipped. It seemed strange to us, that one's devotion to a nation could be considered a religion. In Asgarnia, that was exactly how it was, and it had led to both fierce warriors and fierce opposition. Particularly, of course, from their neighbours, who had over time grown tired of being raided and were reportedly preparing to wage war on Asgarnia. Despite the enemy numbers, Asgarnians with whom we spoke seemed confident that they would win the ensuing war, in which they were lone defenders against the other belligerents, two large groups of tribes who had banded together under the leadership of the Anclian tribe and the Onkassian tribe, respectively.

It was eight days into our stay in Asgarnia that we were summoned to the king's home, in the southern area of the city. We were told to wait in the entrance hall to the mansion, and then left alone for around ten minutes, before Naysis - who had admitted to being acquainted with the king, with whom we had asked to get an audience - appeared, telling us to follow him. We began to walk in a loose group behind him, through a large number of halls and up several flights of stairs. Eventually, we entered a large room, presumably where the king entertained audiences. Naysis told us to take a seat, which we did. After a long wait, I finally spoke up.
"When will your king arrive? We need to make our offer."
Naysis grinned. "In just a minute. Hold on."
Then he left quietly, evidently to get the king.
Two minutes or so later, the king walked in, wearing some sort of unidentifiable headgear that we assumed was the equivalent of a crown. He turned to face us.
King Naysis of Asgarnia grinned the same cheeky grin that he had just before he'd left the room.
"What goods could you possibly be bringing to Asgarnia? Make your offer, esteemed merchants."
҉ ҉ ҉​
Having had far longer than other monarchs to observe the blueprints, Naysis had the knowledge to make strong choices for his nation. As such, the barganing went swiftly, the Asgarnian monarch bartering for his own copy of the blueprints for our airship, as well as the Terracraft, a design that Naysis had spent a large amount of his time aboard our craft looking at very closely. Three days later, an honour guard escorted us out of the city, where our payment awaited. Our airship had been worked on, chased in fine gold and steel. On the front of the cabin, a name plate had been attached. It read: Sky Deceiver.
"A little something to remember me by," the king said to us. "Of a somewhat crafty, and very modest, king."
Then, we boarded the ship, waved our goodbyes to the people we had talked to in Asgarnia, and left, headed north towards the inner seas of Avirria once more. Rumours we'd heard in Avirria, so long ago, had suggested there were people inhabiting the islands there.

It was our best lead remaining.
 
Charj
It was too late when we realised we had gone too far. The lights of Dar-Assina appeared on the horizon, torches and lamps in the rapidly growing dawn light. As we quickly worked to turn around, we heard noise coming from the city.

They would be after us now.

Later that day, after making headway as fast as we possibly could to avoid a potential pursuit, we landed on the outermost of what in Avirria are known as the Dannen Islands. Officially considered uninhabited by the Avirrian high council, the Dannen Islands are in fact inhabited by a group of people calling themselves the Charjians. They are a proud people, and skilled in the arts of seafaring and raiding. It was in their capital city that we landed, soon after sighting it from the air. Here, the sight of Engines was less uncommon than further west or south; we attracted less attention in the air, but a significant amount when we landed. The second side-effect of the Charjian proximity to Avirria was that they understood, and to a limited extent could speak, Avirrian. As such, our shout of "We are merchants! Let us through!" had at least some effect, although the crowd still pressed us as we came through, and many of the Charjians pelted us with questions about why we were there, asking if the Avirrians had decided to open trade, or present an ultimatum to the smaller nation.

Relatively quickly, we found ourselves at the entrance to the residence of the Lord, the monarch of the Charjian people. We were asked to wait for a summons in a rough but beautiful waiting-room, the most prominent feature being a statue of some deity, the details of his face and clothing done in gold filigree. An attendant informed us, in halting Avirrian, that the statue had been made from Tacine black marble and Akaji gold. He also told us that it was a statue of their main god, the 'almighty Char'j'. The government was partly secular, apparently, but regardless the current Lord and much of the populace were devout adherents to Char'jany, the name which I have given the religion in lieu of the knowledge of its Charjan name. The statue was simply the most expensive and impressive of many the Lord of Charj owned, most to all crafted from raided materials from the southern city-states.

We stood for a while, admiring the workmanship; soon enough, we were called in to the audience room of the Charjian monarch. The man was, to put it simply, almost the opposite to his statue in every way; where the statue practically reeked of opulence and extravagance, the Charjian noble wore relatively simple clothes, which failed to hide the man's subpar physical condition. At a glance, he looked around fifty years old, although he was probably closer to forty. The one similarity the lord had to the statue was the volume of gold he wore - a fine gold chain adorned his neck, bearing a round plaque on which was some sort of symbol. No less than three rings could be found on his right hand, as well as a wide bracelet on the right wrist. Nonetheless, he still looked to be, or have been, an experienced and formidable warrior, experienced in the raiding in which Charjian culture was deeply rooted.

The Charjian accent impeded his speech less than it had the attendant's - nonetheless, we had to concentrate to understand him.
"Why have you come here, Avirrian?"
"Avirrian no longer, milord," Ressis replied. "We are fugitives, traitors to Avirria."
"Why did you leave?"
"Corruption, milord, the whole country reeks of it. We have gone to many nations and many kings, to the east and south. We intend to help undo the harm Avirria has done to the world, and perhaps prevent them causing it more."
"How? What is it you have to show me?"
"We have come to trade with you, lord. Perhaps supplies, goods, weaponry... in return, we can offer you these."
Ressis unrolled the blueprints. The light caught the carefully prepared paper, shining a blue reflection on the wall opposite us. The Charjian bent over his desk, squinting at various Engines and the details of them.
"We are a seafaring nation, Avirrian. Our navy has a long tradition."
"We understand. You don't have to trade with us."
"To the contrary. I believe these will be valuable additions to our fleet," the lord said, pointing to two of the ship blueprints - the raider and marecraft designs. "The scale of our raids could be increased tenfold! For these? Twenty metres of fine cloth, raided from Tacine on the southern continent. Do we have a deal?"
"We do. Only..."
"What else?"
"We were seen landing here. Can you make sure we return to our craft safely?"
"I can't do that. That will put our sovereignty at risk. The last thing Charj needs is a reason for Avirria to declare war."
"Understood. Thank you, regardless. We will make our own way there."
҉ ҉ ҉​
It was on our way back to the Sky Deceiver that Ressis was killed. An Avirrian assassin had infiltrated the crowd, and we didn't see the attack coming until too late. By that time, our leader was dead. The two apprentices fought him off as I took the blueprints and the other two of our group took Ressis, using the cloth we had traded for as a stretcher. Then we ran. As we boarded and took off, the assassin tried to grab the side of the airship. We took off regardless, Inyis hitting the man's hands with a hammer mercilessly until he let go. Knowing now that we were pursued, we fled once more, heading towards a continent Avirrian explorers had located in the far east.

The East
The Irran Empire
The city of Mytre lies on the fertile Arka river, on the continent in the far east of the world. Inland lie vast deserts, while on the coast and near the river, the Karros culture from which the Irran empire springs have farmed and fished and traded since time immemorial. From the air, one sees the light glint off of a thousand rooftops, each a different shape. It is a spectacular sight, one that no Avirrian had ever seen before. We were the exception.

Even high in the air, the heat was stifling, but as we came down, it became unbearable. We wore our lightest clothes as we set foot on land once again, roughly cut strips of fabric keeping our damp hair from obscuring our vision. We took some time to bury Ressis, and then headed towards the city. By the time we reached it, just upriver, we were red from both sunburn and sweating - and all of us were relieved to finally enter the cooler shadows of the city. As Ressis was no longer with us, I took on the role of leader, and began to try to communicate with people using the speaking-and-signing method we had used in the far west. Son enough, though, that proved unnecessary.
"Need a hand, stranger?"
To our surprise, the voice was Avirrian. I swiftly turned to face the voice, which as it turned out belonged to a young boy, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old. He introduced himself to us as Thytan, son of a merchant, explaining that he had spoken Avirrian since his father had taught it to him as a child. He'd been discovered to have a gift for languages, and since his father's business had fallen on hard times, he had become an interpreter in order to raise money for his large family.
I asked him who was in charge of the city.
"Officially, the Emperor," Thytan replied. "There's the Council as well, though, a group of the heads of powerful families. What did you have in mind?"
"We have come to trade, but we can't tell you what it is we carry," I told him. "It might alter the balance of power, and we'd like to be able to gauge which way we should push, however. You might be able to help us with that."
"The Emperor, stranger, if you want my opinion," Thytan offered. "Many here in Mytre, and in the Irran Empire as a whole, have little love for any consul. They might welcome a shift in the power balance. Furthermore, my family name is like to get you to the front of the queue..."

Thytan was as good as his word. His father must have once been an influential figure, because the information that we were Thytan's charges almost immediately gained us an audience with the Emperor. The Emperor himself seemed suspicious, though. He glared as each of us entered the room, each party perusing the other with interest. The Irran Emperor, who Thytan had told us was named Tarr of house Roen, was wearing sensible, light clothing of bleached white. On his head sat a thin ring of gold.
"What have you got to say? Why are you here?" This was translated by Thytan for our benefit, although I suspect the Emperor himself also spoke Avirrian but simply chose not to use it.
"We are merchants, sire, and fugitives. We fled our homeland of Avirria, having taken something that they would much rather we hadn't."
"And you'll tell me what that is?"
"In time. It is that which we have come to trade."
"Of what nature are your goods?"
"Military."
"Good. You came to me, which was the correct choice. Better than giving your secrets to that corrupt Council."
"They always seem to be. The Council in Avirria is the same."
"So you would sell them to an Emperor instead?"
"Yes."
"Then show me what you have with you," the Emperor responded, pointing to the roll of papers under my arm. I unrolled these, spreading them on the large waxed wooden desk between him and us.

Some time passed before the Emperor finished looking at the documents - with the intrigued interpreter Thytan looking over his shoulder at the blueprints. He sat up straighter then, looking me in the eye.
"These ones," he told me, his smallest and index fingers on his right hand each pointing carefully to a different document. "The Marecraft and the Aerocraft."
"What would you exchange them for?"
"Do you have means of reaching your next destination?"
"Yes, airborne, although we don't know exactly where we're going next."
"Here is my offer, then: Thytan here to go with you as a guide and translator to the Michilimackinac further north, and an armed guard to follow you on land, mounted. Some of the local peoples might not take too well to the sight of some airborne behemoth casting shadow over their lands."
"That is acceptable to us."
"Excellent. We can have you on your way at once."
That afternoon, we boarded the Sky Deceiver with Thytan and set off, Below us, thirty men on camelback followed the airship. We headed through the lands of various tribes, with little event, and eventually reached the domain of the Michilimackinac.

Michilimackinac
It was late in the afternoon when we landed, the wind blowing from the north, bringing cold air from the snowy wastes that lay far off in that direction. On the wind, we smelt the scent of freshly caught freshwater fish - according to Thytan, that was a sure sign we were near the Mackinac main settlement, Waganawkezee. As we ventured closer, this was confirmed as a group of youths ran past, playing some sort of game involving an animal bladder. The two apprentices and one of the older Engineers, Daini, stopped to watch, while the other remaining engineer and the now second-in-command, Salis, accompanied myself and Thytan to the home of the Mackinac high king.

The town of Waganawkezee was relatively quiet late in the afternoon. The Mackinac are predominantly rural, fishing or farming on the strip of land inside the nearby lakes that they call Turtle Island; as such, even their largest town is relatively small, as we had discovered. It also meant that we could find the high king's home relatively quickly, a squat, round building that was - despite its unassuming design - richly decorated with brightly coloured paints, precious metal and rich fabrics. The roof was made of thick thatch. We entered the building, finding more of the same colours; a beautiful tapestry lined almost the entire wall of the hut's single room, depicting a local myth, which as Thytan explained to us was their creation myth, insofar as they had one. It was widely known through the whole Dust Coast and had been translated into all its languages. The unabridged version was considered by Karros scholars to be one of the great works.

Engrossed in the workmanship of the tapestry, we almost didn't notice the figure wearing what I can only describe as rather drab colours, sitting in the corner on a chair that appeared to be imported from the Irran Empire, judging by the style and construction. We did, though, when he stood up, looking quite unconcerned by us - he had seen that we were with Thytan, who had told us that he had acted as interpreter for the Irran emperor himself. On our part, we were surprised to find out he was present. Then he spoke to us, speaking quickly and leaving us no room to express our shock. We listened to Thytan's interpretation in Avirrian.
"Thytan's clients? Who are you, then? What is your purpose?"
I took Ressis' role again, answering the king's various questions.
"We are merchants from the western lands."
"You have come to trade with the Mackinac?"
I opted for the simple answer this time: "Yes, we have."
"What have you come to trade?"
"Machines of war."
"The Mackinac are a peaceful people, merchant. We cannot - "
As you might expect, it was at that point that the messenger ran in.
"The Asanthinac, my lord! They have issued a declaration of war!"
҉ ҉ ҉​
The Mackinac high king decided to finish his dealings with us before he went to his council of war; to our benefit, the news had changed his view of the war machines, the designs for which I showed to him. The location of their lands meant the natural choice for the monarch of the Mackinac was to choose an engine for each of land and seas; he chose the Raider and Tortoise designs, as I expected and advised him to do. In light of the nation's situation, I offered him the designs for free - he happily accepted, then rushing off to meet with his advisors.

It was a sombre town that we left early the next morning. Thytan and the armed guard headed back to the Irran Empire, while we packed up and headed back west. The horse-riding tribes of the north were reputedly centralising - a fact we had found out in Charj during our visit - and it seemed as good a place to go as any.

The North
Yyaraskihn
Although we didn't know it until we were told in Yyaraskihn itself, there has been a reigning Ilyhksol for centuries. The news had been slow to spread, of course, as the system of government used by the Yyaraski is very decentralised, a loose confederation of tribes or Ilyhka, each ruled by an Ilyhk and paying homage to the Ilyhksol in the great city of canvas, Undalysh. It is little wonder that only recently, as the Yyaraski centralised further than before, did the news that Yyaraskihn was a united polity spread beyond their own borders. Their nomadic decentralised heritage showed its colours as we flew slowly down towards the canvas city.

From above, it might appear that Undalysh is not a planned city; it is rare to see a right angle in the gaps between the canvas houses, and there is no one shape that they are made in - some are round, some square, many more have jutting arms in various directions, and others from many-sided polygons. The truth about the layout of the city, however, is only apparent on the ground. Our small group wandered through the main thoroughfares of Undalysh aimlessly, keeping to them only because if we ventured further, toward the warm cooking fires that dotted the plains outside each house (a precautionary measure - inside the closed-roofed tents, it would have been unsafeto light a fire) we would have been lost for days. The city of the Ilyhksol is a veritable maze, but there is some logic to its madness. Any enemy that might attack - for example, soldiers from either the Asraskihn or the Tenq'akihn, the other two major tribal confederations in the far north - would have to tear the city apart to find its inhabitants if they hid, and given the size of Undalysh, that would take days.

It didn't take as long as we had expected, though, to find our way to the Ilyhksol. To understand this, you have to know something about the class system in Yyaraskihn. First-class citizens, Skihnliat, are pure-blooded Yyaraskihn. Third-class citizens, the slaves, are known as the Kyloh; although they are slaves, they are under the protection of their master, and thus, given that they are slaves, they are treated fairly well. The most intriguing class, however, is the Sekrasaer - the 'half-bloods'. Often the offspring of a pairing of members of the other two classes, but also including foreigners such as ourselves, the Sekrasaer are disallowed from owning horses and cannot be chosen as an Ilyhk or Ilyhksol - but they do tend to fill one role to a high standard, that of administrators. Sekrasaer are the stewards of Undalysh, and as such they are responsible both for the city's inspired layout and its bureaucratic efficiency. As soon as it was discovered that we were in the city, we were whisked away to the Ilyhksol. Soon enough, we were allowed to enter his large canvas home, which inside was reminiscent of that of the high king of the Mackinac, with only one, very large, room.

The Ilyhksol stood in the centre of the room, grinding and polishing a dangerous-looking axe. Next to him, a Sekrasaer stood at his command. When the Ilyhksol spoke, he began to translate into a number of languages for our benefit, eventually settling into Avirrian when we recognised the words.
"What brings a Sekrasaer here from foreign lands? Do you have anything of use to me?"
"That depends, lord, on what you find useful," I said cautiously.
"Don't be deceitful, foreigner. I can have you enslaved and sent to work with the Kyloh," the Ilyhksol snarled. I gulped.
"Machines of war, Ilyhksol - the plans, at any rate, and one of our own on which we travel."
"Show me."
I unfurled the prints on the table. The Ilyhksol bent over to read the writings on them, then turning his attentions to the diagrams and at last back to us.
"I can understand how these work. I have engineers who can build these. You are correct, these will be useful to us. We have many enemies."
"With these, lord, they won't stand a chance."
"I'm sure of it. What would you like as payment, for these two?" he asked, pointing to the Terracraft and Aerocraft blueprints.
"Canvas. Our craft, one of these," I answered, indicating the Airship print, "sustained some damage on our way here. Your make is the best I've seen. We need to undergo repairs."
"Granted, and I'll have my Kyloh do it for you. You can be ready to leave here in three days."
"It appears that we have an agreement."
The Ilyhksol nodded, and held out his right forearm, gripping mine and indicating that I should do the same. Then he let go.
"Thank you. You may leave now."
҉ ҉ ҉​
The Ilyhksol was as good as his word, and the repairs to our ship were of remarkably high standard. On our fourth day in the city, we made ready to leave, gathering our belongings from the canvas house that had been lent to us. We wandered through the streets, heading towards the road out of Undalysh. That was when they appeared.
Four men, Avirrians posing as Kyloh, grabbed Inyis by the arms and legs and pulled him between the tents on our left. The rest of us ran, unable to match their strength. We heard a sickening crunch and a scream. Then silence. Only four Engineers boarded the Sky Deceiver a while later, tired and dejected. Once more, we flew off, heading north towards a group of islands on which resided a people known as the Folk af Hval.

Ӕttkvísl Hvala
We were forced to land early, the winds driving us back as we approached the seas of the far north. We tethered on a peninsula and disembarked, waiting for the storm to subside on a windswept, stony beach on which snow was just beginning to fall. As a blizzard threatened to occur, we brought the spare canvas that had been made a gift to us from the Sky Deceiver, setting up makeshift tents for the night.

The next morning, we were awakened by a noise. Not the storm - it had subsided by this point. The noise was that of a boat being dragged up the beach, which was quiet enough that we might not have woken up if dawn hadn't come so early and lightened our sleep. Rising and stretching, Dessan and I went to investigate, leaving Daini and Salis to organise a meal.

The local almost took fright at our approach, but seemed to understand when I called a simple greeting in the Yyaraski language. He walked over to us, shaking like a leaf. He returned the greeting, then said a string of Yyaraski which I only partly understood:
"What you want?"
"You are Folk af Hval?"
"Yes."
"Avirrian," I replied, pointing to myself.
Even here, it seemed it was a feared name. The man began to shake uncontrollably.
"Not anymore," I added. "We left."
This seemed to calm him.
"Come with me," he said, dragging me off towards the boat.
"Tell the others where I've gone," I yelled to Dessan as the af Hval took me to his boat. It hardly needed saying.

The voyage was long and uninteresting, neither of us having much to say. We made a stop overnight at an island which was relatively sparsely inhabited, then headed on. After five hours on the second day, we arrived at another island, with a sheltered bay on the northern side. Here, near the ice sheets of the furthest north, it was almost constantly snowing, and even in my fur-lined flight gear I shivered a little as I disembarked the boat. I followed the af Hval man into the town on the bay, which he gestured at proudly. "It's called Höfuðborg," he told me, speaking slowly so I understood. "Follow me."

The town's buildings resembled the canvas tents of the Yyaraski in many ways, but more regular (octagonal) in shape and made of hide with the fur left on, so each building resembled patchwork more than anything. Each fur was a different colour, thickness and texture, although white was dominant. Central to the settlement was one very tall building, with a fireplace hole in the top covered by a fine metal grate that let the smoke out but little rain in. This the local dragged me towards and then inside, ignoring the curious calls of the other townspeople. Inside, a meeting was taking place. Eleven men, aged between fifty and eighty years of age by my guess, sat in a circle around the central fire. They all turned towards the door as we entered. The leader of this council and my guide exchanged some words. Then the head of the council, the Skipstjóra Varðmaðurinn, spoke to me in hesitant Avirrian, the knowledge of which among leaders of the world's peoples had long since ceased to surprise me.

"What made you leave the Avirri?"
"Corruption. That place was once a beacon of knowledge, but now it is truly evil."
"The world has known that for many years. I trust that you are trying to undo the evil your people have caused."
"That we are."
"We?"
My guide quickly explained the situation to the Skipstjóra Varðmaðurinn. He nodded.
"How do you plan to cure the blight of Avirrian 'civilisation', then?"
"That's why I'm here. We have travelled around Ath for over two years now, with these." I pulled out the blueprints from under my jacket, which Dessan had given to me as I was taken to the boat at our camp two days before.
All of the council of elders leaned over, trying to see the drawings. One dropped a piece of food he'd been about to eat, cursing as it fell into the fire. At last, they nodded as one. The Skipstjóra Varðmaðurinn looked up at me.
"These are very good. We could use these for hunting, and many other things besides. Would whale fat be an acceptable payment, for these two - the Transport and the Airship? We can get you back to your kinsmen as well."
"What do you use whale fat for?"
"Burning. Smells a bit, but there isn't anything like it for heat and light."
"Then we'll take it."
҉ ҉ ҉​
The Folk af Hval are some of the most industrious we met on our travels. Even as I left the island in another small boat, the shape of the framework for the islands' first airship was taking shape above the town. With four men rowing rather than two and calmer seas, the journey took only one day. I disembarked at the peninsula, rushing back to talk to my colleagues while the Folk af Hval who had accompanied me stared in disbelief at the Sky Deceiver[/b]. Soon afterwards, as we left, they stood slack-jawed on the beach, at last beginning to realise the power we had bestowed upon their people. We shouted our farewells, hovering in midair for some time while we deliberated which direction to head in next. At last, we decided: the master stroke of our journey would now be put into action. We headed south, towards Avirria, and two small polities that Avirria had not yet found and swallowed.

The Final Stage
The Eben Duchy
Given their proximity to Avirria, it's surprising that neither the Eben Duchy nor the Duchy of Arnovia have yet become part of the Avirrian empire, and also that Avirria has not even acknowledged their existence. A contributing factor may be that the mountains between Arnovia and Avirria are nigh on impenetrable going by land. As such, one would need to transport large forces by sea or air to mount an invasion. Avirria hasn't yet developed the Engines to do this, although it has developed the not inconsiderable technology to build Aerocraft, Tortoise and Tower engines. As such, the existence of the Eben and Arnovia is a closely held government secret, which, mercifully, we were privy to. We crossed the mountains to the north of the Duchy of the Eben; then we landed there. At least here, where the sight of prototype Engines was a familiar one, we weren't an object of curiosity. Unfortunately, we were an object of fear. One man did summon up the courage to ask us why we were there. We took the opportunity to calm the crowd that had gathered around us, and managed to get directions to first find the city of Ebbia, then the Duke's palace itself.

Ebbia, a city situated on the Eben river delta and surrounded by rich farmland, resembled Avirrian cities in architecture; tall, rough stone buildings with wooden roofs, often three or four stories high, and with glass windows, something we'd seen only in Avirria and the Edonian region before, in Valmere and the like. We followed wide streets in the morning sun, towards the centre of the city and the palace of the Duke, an imposing building built out of delicate white granite which reflected the sunlight in all directions .We walked into the large entrance hall, and waited. Presently, a servant came and asked us in the Eben language - also called Eben - who we were and why we wished to see the king, then repeated it in Avirrian when he realised his mistake. I replied: "Formerly Avirrian engineers, and we are here on urgent, secret business." The servant disappeared, and after some time returned. "Follow me," he told us.

The duke's office was austere and simple, its only adornment a vase of river-bank flowers on the plain wooden desk. Behind it sat the equally austere figure of the duke, although one who was slightly nervous at the prospect of talking to an Avirrian. Nevertheless, he didn't take long to blurt out a question that seemed to have been on his mind:
"What is your business here?"
Adopting a calm tone, I replied. "We have come with important documents, ones which Avirria would probably prefer we - or you - didn't have."
"And you bring these to me - why?"
"You are a powerful figure in the region. These will only be useful to those who have the resources to use them."
This piqued the duke's interest. "Show me," he commanded, leaning across the desk.
I took the prints from Dessan, holding them open on the desk. The duke took a reading-glass from its position by the flowers, took the vase and used it to pin down one end of the blueprint he had chosen to examine and began to pore over each document in turn. After some time, he nodded.
"How many can we have?"
"Two. In return, you can choose any reward - or none - for our help."
"These ones would be agreeable?" the duke replied, pulling the Tortoise and Raider documents from the stack.
"Yes, of course."
"We can restock your food supply for you in return. Eben is a centre of the regional grain trade."
"Thank you. Done."
We shook hands, to seal the deal. Then we left.
҉ ҉ ҉​
The next day, we headed back to where our airship was tethered, out in the countryside of the Duchy of the Eben. At first, we thought the Duke had posted an armed guard on it. As we drew closer, we realised we were mistaken. From behind us, a noise came: a crossbow, being loaded with a hand crank. As we turned around to face the source of the sound, others came from clumps of trees and bushes either side of the path. The armed guard - an Avirrian one - walked towards us. The last Engineers. Four of the soldiers restrained us, while another four tied us up, leaving four to guard us. We were weakened, and even twelve would have been too many to fight. So we didn't resist, and they took us away.
҉ ҉ ҉​
I am the last of the Engineers of Avirria. I waste away in this dungeon, while all of my colleagues - Ressis, Inyis, Dessan, Daini, Salis, Mazan, Algan - are long dead, all killed by accident or the corruption of Avrirria. Anyone who finds this will know what we have done. But like us, anyone who finds this will be killed. To Avirria, this is a dangerous document. If it was discovered, the Council might face a revolution.

So, most likely, it probably won't be.
 
Spoiler map :

Spoiler :
Stats will be here.


Edit: Final character count: 82,667
Final word count: 14,812
 
Awesome. For now I've only read the Eben bit, it's a looong update after all. ;)

But it's awesome.
 
Awesome !!
:hatsoff:

OOC : Just a small query what are the stats of the NPC surrounding Valmerre Union ? One of these would obviously be given a abusive fancy name by our people since we dont like them :p
 
:twitch:

No wonder it took so long. Congratulations.
 
The High General looked through the plans...yes these are perfect. Those Engineers definitely understand that clearly understandable designs are very important. How long to build he calculated. the High general had started as as a engineer in his career. When he took power, he had lead several campaigns. Once they ended, he began a massive project of public works. These had been well designed and very functional, as well as eye pleasing. It was one of the reasons he had kept the position longer than any. Above all, with those Simmdals(OOC: yes it's a insult) recent increase in the size of their military, we have to prepare for war. Those saphfires(local term) gems were perfect for finishing the newest project. since those gems would fetch a good price in the market, the economy would flourish if we obtained the mines...the civilian population will want easier access to them. The military wants the gems in order to line the pockets of my generals, not a bad thing when trying to keep a position in a military state. If their distracted making money, they can't coup me. And the rumors of gold...interesting. Our spy network seems to be the most stable part of the military(their is no civilian spy network.). I think before this occurs, we need to develop our military a little bit though.
 
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