ITNES I - Interesting Times

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The land of Mohenjo-daro, the land of fame. Here it was that the first Aryan battles occurred, and were through blood and perserverance, an empire was forged. Alas, the future of this empire of many thousands rests in the hands of 2 unsuspecting and 1 very suspecting characters. As you can probably guess, either ruin or greatness awaits...

The prophecies (which I know das loves so much ;) ) first tell of a new ruler in the century of 700. He will lead his armies to grand conquests, but will himself be consumed with the barbarity and darkness he once fought tooth and nail...

The Emperor is dead, long live the Emperor! Today was still a day of mourning, even though the grand Emperor had passed away 5 days before. Still, Mohenjo-daro was a busy place, and business would have to resume as normal. The ride to Mohenjo-daropolis (as it is called now) had been slow coming from the battlegrounds of the Aryan lands, partially due to the tiredness of his troop (the council had ordered his presence almost immediately after victory was declared, sensing the Emperor's death near) but partially to enjoy the scenic countryside. After years of war, Jiva wanted a respite from the blood.

Suddenly, a yell of joy came from behind him, and a pat on the back jolted Jiva from his drifting. "WOO HOO, looks like we have Mohenjo-daropolis ahead! Whats your first action as Emperor going to be?" the soldier patted Jiva on the back again, laughing with happiness. Jiva looked ahead at the city, once again dazing off,"Maybe...to put, you Chandra, on the execution block!" The riders grew silent...then burst out laughing again. "The sun is setting Chandra, tell the men we are too sleep in Mohenjo-daropolis tonight and go to the Council in the morning. I doubt those old men are up anyway!" Chandra grunted in agreeance and complied.

**********************************************************

Everyone else was gone. War heroes they had been declared as, himself included, but they had been dismissed to thier homes. Now he was all alone. Sitting in front of the most powerful group in Mohenjo-daro, all eyes on him. All he could think was...dont screw this up. He was seated in a large rectangular table placed in a very extravagant room as one can expect. The ceiling was a dome shape and a beutiful rendering of the "Battle of the Indus" was depicted, covering the entire wall. Gold and encrusted jewelry of all sorts adorned the side walls, aswell as the sides of the table. 5 men sat on either side of the table, with 1 sitting at the head. 11 men, 11 of the most powerful men in Mohenjo-daro. That was the second time he had said that phrase to himself, it certainly would not help relieve the stress he was feeling. So he tried picturing them in thier underwear....needless to say, that didnt do much other than cause a few funny looks from the councilmen. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the councilman at the opposite end of the table arose. Gathering his words before he spoke, he began,"Brave General Jiva. You are here today, obviously, to accept your medals of honor from your victories in Aryan lands. But as you may have suspected, we have more to thrust upon you. The death of our beloved Emperor (at these words, several of the councilmen do various things to show sadness, nodding thier head, doing Hindu prayers, etc.), which came at such in inoppurtune time such as this, forced us to make a decision. A very careful decision mind you. The Emperor had left no heir, and only the most worthy could be chosen for this post of the highest importance. We decided to choose you. Do you accept?"

Jiva had fully expected this news, but it still overwhelmed him. He stared at the councilman, considering the reasons he had been chosen....why him? He had no experience other than in war, he did not know politics...."Well, what do you say?" the councilman snapped. Jiva refocused, and stood as he voiced his decision, "I....accept. I accept the council's selection of me as Emperor!" The councilman smiled and began to clap, and slowly the rest of the council stood and clapped aswell. Maybe this would not be so bad afterall...
 
“Shennong, who is that guy?”

*smack*

“Wu, do not say Shennong’s name in vain. To say his name in vain is to mock your elders and their knowledge for he was our first teacher. They serve the King as I do searching for new ways to cure, to treat, and to make better our lives. Does anyone else know who Shennong is? Li, answer”

“My father is a doctor and he told me that Shennong was the first doctor, taught the people agriculture, and also the inventor of tea which sadly is something that has been lost to the rest of China during the collapse of the glorious Yellow Emperor’s reign.”

“Excellent Li Shi Zhen, once more you show your knowledge of medical history surpasses everyone in this class. Class is dismissed for the day.”

Shi Zhen and the rest of his class all surged out of class immediately and the teacher’s customary rolling of eyes. On the way home, Shi Zhen walked alone as he usually did but noticed a large group of students approaching him…

“Look there, it’s the smart I know it all Li Shi Zhen! Tell me, when will you become a doctor and heal all of us you know it all!”

“Don’t you know anything about fashion smart butt, your parents can afford better, but no, they’re greedy doctors who charge everyone but the cheap and poor farmers and peasants.”

“Leave me alone all of you!”

With that, Li Shi Zhen ran away. However, unknown to him his father had been collecting medicine on the hill and had observed everything that had happened. Later, he would tell his son that he would allow him to become a doctor. Li Shi Zhen would become a great doctor who didn’t charge the poor and would later compile all of Shennong’s work on classifying herbs, roots and other healing materials into one book, as well as improving and updating it, into the Shennong Herb-Root Classic.
 
To Meatbags
From Macedonnia

Pathetic FOOL!Do you think we care about our lives?!Beware of the Crna Legija that shall smite you!For Great Justice!!!
 
"It was an agrian state. Deccania was forged with the hand of the farmer, the agricultural workers held in high esteem. Yet even the Hindu fanaticals overshadowed these important people." - From "The history of Deccania" circa 2005.

The great rajan Dinesh II sat in his palace, in the Deccanian capital. In the reign of Dinesh I, his humble village had been transformed into the spiraling metropolis dubbed Estania. The city spread out from the imperial palace and it's extended gardens. Even the Hindu temples were forced to bow to the will of the rajan. It wasn't taken kindly to the Hindu priests, but they bowed to the kings whim, for he had the temples protected. Hinduism was afterall the state faith of Deccania, and most pagans were executed by the high order of Hindu elders.

The rajan was the protector of Deccania. He kept the people safe and kept invaders out. Hindu law governed the people, thus the priests, even down the lowiest had some influence in the despotic government of the rajans.

A well-cleaned man waltzed into the throne room of Dinesh. An advisor most-likely, and also a Hindu priest. It was becoming common that the government high officals were also religious figures in the most luxerious temples in all of Deccania. Dinesh was..not as great as his father, and relied on the faith to guide him. This led to some idiotic choices at times. The advisor spoke.

"Your greatest lord, I come here to speak to you about..the order of your government. Is it true you signed an allinance with our northern neighbor? I do not disagree with this action, but I wonder why you did such a thing. Your father was strict in enforcing an isolutionist policy, to keep us out of the yoke of foreign troubles. Why did you sign such a document when you were taught all your life to keep Deccania OUT of ruin?"

"I had a vision. I saw a large united Deccania, under the iron fist of my children's children. We were effective. Estania was even larger..and there were foreigners in the city. To achieve such an ideal, Deccania must embrace foreign politics. If we ever wish to destory the Dravi-Indians of the south, we WILL need the aid of outsiders." The rajan spoke in a dreamy tone, sighing as he thought of the powerful Deccania, florishing with culture. The priest huffed.

"Did you ask the high priests? You DID do that, didn't you?" The advisor asked. The rajan shook his head.

"I am the rajan. I defend you. I defend this land! I do not need to ask the priests for anything. I AM Deccania."

"You dare defy the Hindu priests? They promoted and got along with your father..but you, you have just caused trouble!" The advisors shout caused the exotic birds in the gardens to fly away. The rajan's stare turned to a stony gaze.

"I am the rajan, and I know what is right. You are just an advisor, a lowly priest compared to my being. I was chosen by Vishnu to rule, and you will not take that away from me. You CAN'T take that away from me!"

"You have lost the radiance of the great rajan before you always radiated. Someone lacking such a divine radiance should not be able to rule. The priests all agree with me as well.." The advisor replied, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter what you think. I am the rajan. What are you going to do, kill me?"

"..Yes. But it won't matter. You have exposed us to the foreign yoke. It's too late to stop our nation from being exposed to foreign ideas..but we can get rid of you and bring a true rajan to the throne. He will need to be acceptable to these foreigners, but we won't lead Deccania down the road to ruin like you will. Guards! Take away this man!" The advisor smiled as the rajan was grabbed by his most loyal guards and drug away. It had taken years, but the whole Deccanian court had shunned the rajan, due to his inept ablities. He had proved unfavorable, and thus disposed by the priests.

The end to the rajan, but from his ashes a new one would arise.
 
Texas Toast, sure thing, just remember that you have, effectively, declared war on Sparta.
 
Announcement: I will have post awards each IT. As in, when this IT is over (when exactly depends on some events, mostly in the Mediterranean, India and maybe China), I will post awards for it and also a summary (in the history thread which I will set up when the time is right).

Thoughts, comments?
 
i had a similar thought in mind. altough you are still going to give overall nes winner award i suppose
 
“What do you mean we don’t have a large enough industry!!!”

“Milord, Wu is mostly rural exporting food and etc in exchange for industrial goods. We do not have the capacity to do as you requested.”

With that, a new era shall be born. King Mu Xi ordered a tax levied on all traders bearing goods that are also made in Wu, traders from Qin, Yan, and Hong Kong would all have to pay a tax so that their goods will be more expensive then native goods. And to make sure that happens, he ordered money to be given to the native industries to help them make their goods less expensive as well as paying them for every student they have.

In no time, industries began shooting all over the place and some enterprising potters, and other artisans decided to move into the countryside and make their goods there while selling it to the local people. Soon, a few small towns popped out where there wasn’t before and some produced different goods then others. One of the new towns, Wuhan, became famous for it’s colorful glazed pottery. Others for their delicate and warmer then normal wool.
 
i had a similar thought in mind. altough you are still going to give overall nes winner award i suppose
Click to expand...

But ofcourse.
 
Dust. Smoke. Rain. And heat... the blazing heat...

Sweat rolled off her face even as he watched, her mouth open in a terrible twisting scream. Omprakash grimaced as the screaming went on and on, and he turned away, not bearing to watch. But he stayed in the room... even backing gingerly to the bed to clasp one of her hands gently in his own. She seized it with a furious intensity, clenching it between her fingers. He looked down, and her dark brown eyes blazed with a fury. He smiled towards her.

“It will be over soon, my love... but you must remain strong for now.”

She nodded grimly, and the screams resumed. His mouth twitched, but he steeled himself. If she can survive the pain, I should be able to listen to her screams.

The midwife hovered around the foot of the bed, encouraging Chandrika to push harder, harder. His mouth again twitched, but he supposed it would have to be necessary...

It seemed like an eternity of simply standing there. Waiting... But then it was done, and the midwife held two infants in her hands, who stared at her mother, smiling. Chandrika laughed softly, and asked if she could hold them, the midwife immediately consenting. Omprakash smiled in relief, and gazed down at the twins.

“They are boy and girl,” her wife said in wonderment.

“Mehul and Meghana,” he breathed.

She smiled. “Rain and cloud. No better names for children born in the monsoon.”

He nodded, glancing outside, where the rain dripped noisily off of the peaked arch of the doorway. He smiled at her again. “Perhaps you’d like a bit of time alone?”

She shook her head, sweat sliding down the long dark strands of her hair. “I’d like time to sleep.”

He laughed, and gestured to the midwife, who took the babies away.

“They were quiet, weren’t they?” he said, staring at the midwife’s retreating back.

“So they were... Regal even in birth. Befitting of a King of Kalinga.”

“Or queen.”

She laughed. “You do have a point. Which one was first? We will have to ask the midwife later...”

He nodded seriously, then his face relaxed. He kissed her briefly on the lips and smiled. “I will see you later, my love, but for now, you need rest.”

She nodded, already yawning, and their eyes met one last time, smiles exchanged, before he briskly turned tail and walked out of the room.

His white cloak swept behind him as he turned several corners, finally finding himself at the end of a long hallway. Omprakash continued his fervent, determined march to the end of the hall. There he reached the long stone steps that would lead to his tallest tower. A little water dripped down them in a slowly spreading pool. At least, he hoped it was water.

He methodically climbed the stairs, all hundred, before he reached the top of the tower. The rain was pouring out here, a coll relief from the oppressive heat of the downstairs, pouring in great sheets down upon the city. His white cloak immediately became damp, hanging limply down where it had billowed only moments before, and his dark hair ran with beads of water.

Annoyed, he brushed a few wet strands of hair out of his eyes, and turned to survey his domain.

His eyes swept over the thousands of roofs of the city, most of them still intact, though some were smoldering. His eyes wandered further, over to the walls. A section had collapsed in a great cascade, opening up a breach for all the world to see.


And his eyes moved further out, out of the city. Onto the campfires beyond.

Thousands of campfires. Thousands of little figures moving about, busying themselves with their work. He grimaced. A dozen catapults, lined up. None of them were jerking with the characteristic motion of the arm that would send stones hurtling towards the city. None, at this point in time, while the monsoons lasted.

But before the monsoons, it had been hell. Before the monsoons, it had been hell on earth, a thousands stones falling on the city, ten thousand flaming arrows descending, and then the black swarming mass, charging the wall. It had taken them ten minutes to make the breach in the wall, though as he watched it had seemed an eternity.

And that hell would come again, after the monsoons.

*****************

“People of Sampa, people of Kalinga.

“Outside this city awaits hell. The soldiers of Magadha are bent on conquest, and it would not do to tell the tales of the horror that they inflicted upon Shripurushottama. But I will say this: that evil which they have done to others must not, will not come to pass here. I will stay in this city.

"I will not flee, I will not run. I will face the destiny of this city as my own destiny; my life lives and dies as this city lives and dies.

"And I will not surrender this city to the Magadhans while I live.

"I will stay and fight the evil, for the shroud of a coward is not the one I wish to wear. The only shroud I shall place around my shoulders is that of the white; the white shroud of the kings of Kalinga.

"And I will fight.”
 
when are orders due?
 
Update is on 16th, Alex, so orders in 15th (you know the deadline, its in the rules).

People, write more stories, post more diplo!
 
Hmm might not be able to sned orders in time,I`ve got 3 days of school left and teachers are killing me with tests and oral exams.
 
Sacrifice Eco level for 6 eco points

Spend two on infrastrucutre
Spend two on Education
Spend two on military

Olmec mathmatics

The Olmec Calender System
and the subsequent invention of the Number zero


olmecountday.jpg


Bars represent a value of 5, dots a value of one. The more unusaual thing is that this system is a vigesimal or base 20 system.

Anyway as can be seen (although the upper number is cut off), the numbers for this particular calender are, 15, 6, 16, 18 .

The first number equates to kins, second number Uins the third number is tuns. Finally the last number depicts what number the king is.

20 Kins equates to one Uin (or 20 days)
18 Uins equates to one tun (360 days)

Thus this calender is; the 16th year and 135 days in the year of the 18th King.

Of course this led to some troubles, when one wanted to depict no kins, problems arose, as you read down, the first number was always kins, or how could one tell it was meant to be uins instead?

This was solved by the creation of a number equating to zero. It was usually representated in the Olmec Writings by a shell.
 
Toteone, no, you can't. Especially as the player limit is full.
 
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