The Avirri are, to date, the only tribe to have entered the halls of civilisation on this distant Earth. From the most modest of beginnings, they united or defeated the squabbling tribes around them on their small piece of the world. For almost seven thousand years, they have advanced the ideologies and technologies of the world, entirely on their own. They have had six thousand, nine hundred and eighteen years of dominance, almost handed to them on a plate. A benign tumour on the face of their planet, Ath, it is only recently they have begun expanding again as they once did. From their island city of Dar-Assina, they were once content with knocking the heads of their surrounding tribes and small city-states and nations every once in a while, and building their own fair-sized state - - content in the knowledge that no other people in the human race had the means to defeat their far superior technology. Only recently, their shipyards developed the means to use steam and gas as a means of powered flight - if only they were the only ones to now know that secret!
Traitors to the High Council of Avirria, eight of the shipyard masters fled the country, set on making as much money as they could and retiring, rich, in a corner of the world... never to be found. It was not to be, of course. All eight ended their lives in the arena at Dar-Assina, their punishment as criminals to be killed by the dogs. All had their possessions seized, poor in death in a mocking of what they seeked in life.
They are saying they will bring in lions to the arenas now, before the lions themselves arrive. Before they died, the eight shipyard masters did manage to sell the council's secrets: and they are spreading. New nations arise, armed with much of the knowledge and resources of the Avirri themselves, courtesy of the eight traitors who sold it to them. Vast swathes of the hitherto undiscovered world have now been uncovered; deserts, vast forests and plains, thick jungles. Colonies are being built. Wars are beginning, on a scale previously unseen on Ath.
And the Avirri themselves? Jealously guarding their remaining secrets, they wait in their cities for their governments, their engineers and their soldiers to re-establish their dominance of the region, and from there? Thanks to eight traitorous engineers, the world lies out there. A million enemies are ready to fight.
For the men and women who rise to lead the world's new nations; for the engineers and the citizens; the soldiers, the colonists and the diplomats... the challenges are yet to come.
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"Serenn Tath."
The engineer looked up.
"That's me. Traitor, scumbag and general good-for nothing. At your service. What may I do for you?"
"Nothing, Tath. As a prisoner and a traitor, you are of no use to me. I have only one job I can offer you. I'm afraid it doesn't pay very well." The jailer hawked, spitting onto the dusty floor of the cell.
"And what might that be?", the engineer commented dryly. He remained impassive as the jailer intoned,
"Entertain the people, serve your punishment and die. The Avirri have no place and no respect for traitors."
With that, he pushed Serenn Tath, eighth shipyard master of the Avirri Shipyard, out through the wooden doorway, and into the Dar-Assina arena. Sound burst into the world, and light. Serenn Tath stumbled, trying to regain his temporarily lost vision. The crowd cheered. Serenn looked up. A special surprise, he thought bitterly. True enough. The jailer had been honest. Not many victims of the arena had been mauled, not by dogs, but by a lion.
It crawled closer. Serenn thought he saw it lick its lips.
Last of the engineers, traitor to the Avirri, Serenn Tath knelt down on the sand, resigned to his fate, and waited to die.
When it came, he didn't even scream once.