We’re introduced to Sun On-Yee, a rookie in the Tiger’s Fang triads. He is tasked with spying on some merchant to gather information that can be exploited. However, he’s not very good at it, and is spotted before the merchants drop any juicy details. Defeated, On-Yee heads towards his boss’s office. On the way, he is mugged by three thieves, off of whom he beats up. He gets into the office and is scolded for his insolence. Later, he and a pal head to the bar, chatting along the way.
Central marketplace of Midta, provincial capital of Midland, Eastern Gu-Wei...
“The marketplace’s louder than usual.”
“Oh yeah, didn’cha hear? There’s apparently a musterin’ goin’ on. Heard they was heading out west.”
It hadn’t even been a month. It was insane, really, how slow time went by when exposed to the new. Yet… Here he was - a nameless thug off the streets of Midta, not even a bei to his name, dropping eaves at the request of the kings of this city.
“Out west? Grandpa’s coffin, has there been another raid? I swear, it’s been happening every year now.” The distant spice merchant put his face in his paprika-dusted hands, leaving his brow a rusty red. “If the supply is cut, I’ll have to close down shop.”
“Nah, doubt it’s a raid this time - they can usually handle those. Still, I’m askin’ around for local farmers who grow rice. I’ll be damned if I’m switchin’ to millet this time’a year.”
Behind the grain merchant, in a dank alley of the marketplace where one would think the worst of scum was crawling, a silhouette added to the already abundant shadows. Young and deceptively scrawny, it was - human, awfully so. Black hair dressed his dark scalp, and on account of his rank, he wore little less than baggy, patchy linen shorts and an equally ragged tunic - he looked about as insignificant as he was.
“At least you have the option. What am -I- supposed to do? Use spice as currency?”
“Is any of that even yours, anyway?” the grain merchant chuckled and the spice merchant looked away.
“Let’s not delve any deeper into this, alright? They might hear.” Shifty eyes scanned the stalls’ surroundings and the scrawny human youngster squatted down, extended forth a hand holding a cup and bent his head. When the merchants’ eyes fell upon him, all they saw was a beggar.
Still, it was a poor disguise in the face of Middling veterans. Before he had the chance to look back, the scrawny lad could already that the merchants weren’t going to talk anymore that day. Eventually, he faced reality and stood up, disappearing into the darkness of the alley.
Hearsay, yes - information - was the greatest resource on the market; neither spice, silk nor gold could outbid it. Living as a fly on the wall could potentially make you richer than a merchant lord. To hear that little slip of the tongue - an unpaid debt, an unfavoured competitor, a fear of walking alone at night - all could be prospected and exploited like a Shajiang gem deposit.
That was what Sun On-Yee hoped he could have done, anyway, but now it seemed that he would go hungry another night. He groaned to himself - Alsamsan would likely scold him for his uselessness tonight. He could already hear it: “dog”, “leech”, “flea” - the usual treatment expected from a Lesser Pillar.
The unswept corridors between towering shops and houses carried him past beggars, pipeweed addicts, thugs of rival factions and other types On-Yee felt no need to interact with. While he hadn’t been living this live for very long, the inhabitants of the shadows had learned not to stare for too long.
Well, most of them.
“Oi!”
On-Yee’s quick pace slowed. Behind his back, he heard ragged soles slap against moist cobblestone littered with pools of urine. A hand like a boulder, down three fingers, did its best to grasp On-Yee’s shoulder tightly and spin him around. Without too much of a struggle, On-Yee complied and turned to face a mug with resemblance to a beat pulled fresh out of the ground: It was unnaturally red, dirty and covered with unsavoury growths. Another hand appeared between them and assumed a beckoning motion.
“Cough it up, son,” said the thief. Sun On-Yee smacked his lips sharply and spat on the ground between them.
“Cough up what?”
“Whatever you’ve got - unless you’d like to sleep in the gutter for the night.” The beckoning hand became a thick fist. From behind him appeared a pair of forward-leaning, skinnier scoundrels armed with what looked to be shivs. On-Yee grimaced - of course even this lump had friends.
“Look, I’ve got nothing - look at me, I’m not even worth selling to the Snaketongues!”
“The Snuh--... What’s that? You know something?” the fat thief asked. Oh, perfect, the bluff fell flat.
“Slavers, mate,” one of the scrawny ones said helpfully and ran a dirty rag over the somehow dirtier edge of his shiv. “Though I reckon they’d take anyone - even a shrimp like this. Might not pay handsomely for him, but bei is bei.”
“Bei is bei,” the other skinny one agreed. The fat one’s grip tightened, his two fingers digging into On-Yee’s shoulder.
“Bei is bei,” the fat one agreed with a smirk. “You’re coming with us, son--UGH!”
The thief keeled forward as On-Yee planted a powerful kick in his crotch long before he could react. On-Yee tossed himself forward, causing one of the scrawny ones’ strikes to stab the fat one’s arm instead, eliciting a squeal. On-Yee rolled to his feet just in time to toss himself backward to dodge a swipe from the third one; he then dodged another, grabbed a stool from a small food stall nearby and swung it as hard as he could. The thief, overcommitted to a forward lunge, had no way of ducking away. The first strike dazed; the second knocked out a number of teeth; the third left him squirming weakly on the cobblestones.
“Argh!”
“Mate, I’m so, so sorry, I--!” The fat one slapped the second scrawny.
“Go kill him, you daft shit! Ugh!” Leaving the fat one to nuzzle his bleeding arm, the second scrawny gulped and slowly approached On-Yee with quivering steps. They had assembled quite a crowd now, all denizens of the alley peeking out of their homes or gathering in the streets to cheer on the spectacle. On-Yee smirked cruelly, squeezing his grip tighter around the stool he had taken as a weapon. His opponent appeared frozen, and On-Yee seized that opportunity to arm himself with the knocked-out thief’s shiv. His opponent hesitated even more now, but eventually lunged. The strike was undisciplined and desperate, adequate in speed and strength, but lacking in accuracy. It flew wide, right past On-Yee, leaving the knife’s owner to the fate of an incoming slam with a stool. The strike hammered him to the ground, from which he immediately tried to rise. On-Yee gave him not a second of peace, slicing at the back of his shins with the shiv. The thief squealed and howled in unison with the cheer of the crowds, but before On-Yee could finish him off, the fat one grabbed him from behind and lifted him up before tossing him to the ground again. The fall knocked the air out of On-Yee and he dropped the stool. The fat one placed his foot on On-Yee’s ribcage, but just before he could press his weight down and break it, On-Yee dug the shiv he still held deep into the thief’s thigh. The fat one once more squealed and skipped backwards before falling over and knocking himself out on the cobblestone.
The crowds exploded into loud applause. On-Yee slowly got to his feet and winced. Seems that the fat one had managed to break a rib after all. He dabbed a moist spot on the back of his head. He looked at his fingertips and found them red. He looked down and noticed his head had landed right next to a slightly protruding cobblestone - a little more to the left and it could’ve been the end of him. He swallowed and whispered a silent prayer to his unnamed ancestors before giving the thieves a glare. He shrugged to himself and began looting their pockets. The one still conscious dared not do anything other than lie still and pray he wouldn’t bleed out. In the end, On-Yee found little more than a few bent coins and mouldy jerky. He pulled the mould off the jerky and gave it a half-hearted chew, then a wholehearted one as he realised it was tougher than expected. With lunch secured, he went on his way.
The endless alleys eventually became a two-floored shack, in front of which was a suspiciously empty lot that told anyone too curious to approach to turn right back around. On-Yee gave the angles over his shoulders each a quick glance before approaching the shack’s door, which, by the way, was much too fancy in comparison to the walls around it. He gave the door three knocks, a kick and then another knocks. A slot slid to the side slightly above the centre and revealed a pair of squinting, dark eyes complemented by darker skin.
“Crouching tiger...” came a stern voice. On-Yee groaned.
“Gemlosan, it’s me! C’mon, it’s been a month, can’t we drop--”
“Crouching tiger…?” On-Yee rolled his eyes.
“... Hidden dragon.”
The door gave a tired groan as it slowly swung inwards, revealing a tall man with a mean mug and roughly a hundred and fifty jin of muscle to back that up. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
On-Yee huffed. “How much longer until you trust me, huh?”
Gemlosan scowled. “Way longer than a month, kid. Now get in.” The man slapped On-Yee inside and shut the door behind him. Inside, three teens about On-Yee’s age sat squatting around a small fire, watching the slow broil of a skimpy trout on a simple gridiron. In the corner upon a small stool sat a one-eyed muckling, scowling harshly at everything in the room. The floor was unswept cobblestone - one would think one never had left the streets; the walls had seen better days, but at least the scent of mould had grown familiar; the roof keeled slightly downwards at the centre. All in all, with the exception of the door, the word shack fit perfectly when describing this sorry excuse for a building. Another two doorways led out of the room: One doorway draped in a curtain of threaded beads, above which hung a sign labeled “To the restaurant”, and another door, this one of plain wood with no label. The three lads gave On-Yee greeting nods, which he returned. Another slap pushed the boy forward and he shot Gemlosan a glare.
“What? What?!”
“Boss wanted to see ya.”
On-Yee huffed. “Couldn’t you just’ve said that? I know where he is.”
Gemlosan flared his nostrils, a smirk revealing itself. “Do ya now?”
On-Yee blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’re you getting at?”
The tall man tapped his temple smugly. “Let’s just say that you haven’t been the only one out spyin’ today. Enjoy your chat with the boss now.” With a deep giggle, he shuffled off through the doorway draped with the bead curtain. On-Yee swallowed and looked behind him towards the wooden door. He first stepped over to a basin of somewhat smelly water. He dabbed a piece of cloth in the water and began cleaning his wounds, then wrapped his ribs in a roll of linen. He dipped his hands into the water, rubbed his face clean and cleaned out his nostrils. He tugged his tunic until it looked somewhat presentable and patted his pants. As he grabbed the door handle, one of the lads around the fire said, “Good luck, bro Sun.”
On-Yee stopped and looked at him, eventually smiling half-heartedly back. He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was dark, windowless. The only source of light was a single lamp left on the floor, valiantly making a stand against the overwhelming shadow. Squinting, On-Yee could barely see the outline of a pair of legs seated not too far away from the lamp, most likely in a seiza position.
“Approach, Sun On-Yee.”
On-Yee swallowed again. Slowly, he made his way over, his feet feeling a number of obstacles littering the floor. Avoiding them to the best of his ability, he eventually found a spot opposite of the outline to sit down. A hand dimmed the lamp’s already weak flame and On-Yee’s eyes eventually adjusted: The outline was weak, but it was evidently bearded and wildly uncombed, topped with the broad, bulbous hat of a Middling merchant. The clothes appeared baggy, but no details of their colours were revealed in the darkness. A while passed before the voice spoke, “Your failure at the marketplace. Explain.”
On-Yee frowned. “W-well, I…”
“Your spot was completely out in the open.”
“I was in an alley, I--!”
“Did you hide behind any clutter?”
“N-no…”
“A wall, then, perhaps?”
“I-I tried, but the angle was wrong…” On-Yee felt himself begin to sweat.
“Ah, I see, you thought you could trick them into believing you were just some innocent, loitering thug minding his own business, hmm? Is that it?”
On-Yee didn’t answer. The voice drew a long, disappointed breath. “Sun On-Yee, the merchants who fall for that trick man no stall in Midta. If that’s the manner of behaviour you classify as stealth, then you will pack whatever garbage you own and leave for Bast or some other gullible riverland city tonight, is that clear?”
On-Yee cleared his throat. “Y-yes, sir.”
“What was that?”
“Y-yes, master Alsamsan.”
“That’s better. Don’t think that you are anything special just because the Lion took pity on you. You are a dog, do you understand? A flea, to be scratched off the skin of greater men.”
On-Yee clenched his fists. A bubbling fury was roaring within him, with no valve for release. The insults kept hammering at his soul like a shower of stone. He never felt he had had time to build up a considerable sense of pride yet, but what he had was being pressured to the point of weapon’s grade hardness.
Yet to lash out against a superiour would mean his death, and he was certain nothing would please Alsamsan more than to leave his butchered corpse in the gutter.
“A month has passed, maggot,” the shadow snapped. “A month has passed and you cannot even drop eaves properly…”
“With all due respect, master Alsamsan, I am not a spy - I’m a fighter and--!”
“Oh yes, a fighter - exactly what made you so precious to the Lion to begin with! He must’ve seen a sweet little cub in you - meant to one day grow into the fiercest beast in all of the triads. Well, think again, you leech, for he placed you with -me-, and that means you’re on spy duty.”
The watery trickle of something foul-smelling dropped into an unseen cup and Alsamsan drew another breath. “That will be all, Sun On-Yee. You’re going to the docks tomorrow. If you can’t get me anything of value, then you can leave your little finger on your way out.”
On-Yee swallowed nervously. Wordlessly, he bowed his head and went back to the door. Once he was on the other side, he leaned up against the wall next to it and slid down into a squat. He groaned and buried his face in a palm.
“Shit, what’d you do to piss him off that bad?” came a voice. On-Yee looked up to see the grinning face of Fabonsan Yogmir. At least there was some joy in this world - not even the suffering of the streets could sap the joy from that smile. On-Yee couldn’t help but smile back, even if the effort was weak.
“I dunno. Maybe he was in a bad mood already?”
“Sunny, the day Alsamsan isn’t in a bad mood is the day the Midland Sea will swallow the world and the mucklings will kill us all.” He held out a flat palm to the muckling in the corner. “No offense, by the way.”
A gurgling croak was all the response they got, but the muckling’s expression seemed to indicate that it was rather used to being described as a lowly savage. It returned to polishing an unproportionately long knife, the motion making On-Yee a little nervous. Fabonsan clapped him playfully on the cheek to regain his attention.
“So, what’d he tell ya?”
On-Yee hesitated. “W-well… He said that, uh… He said that if I fail to get anymore information, I’ll be out of the triads.”
“Down one finger?”
On-Yee flexed a held-up pinkie. “Down one finger.”
“Yikes… Someone needs to get that guy a sense of humour - and maybe a night with Fasurdor or someone. Man doesn’t get out enough.”
On-Yee giggled quietly. “Shit, man, don’t say that kinda nonsense when I just got out of a bad scolding, a’ight?”
Fabonsan nudged him lightly in the side. “Oh please, if I wanted to get us in trouble, I’D SPEAK A LITTLE LOUDER ABOUT ALSAMSAN’S NEED TO--!”
“SSH!” On-Yee demanded and covered Fabonsan’s mouth, unable to stop cackling to himself. There was silence, save for the three lads grilling their trout and the muckling’s sharp tugs of cloth over metal. Then came an approaching sound from behind the wooden door. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at one another before they sprinted into the restaurant behind the curtained doorway.
The restaurant was abuzz with activity, the majority of the clientele being the unsavoury type - a bit like they themselves were: They all had at least one sharp object on their hips; their eyes looked as though they had seen a thousand battles and their fingers, a hundred thousand purses; and speaking of fingers, the average number of fingers per two hands appeared to be roughly around nine. Ducking and dodging their way between tables and occupied stools eventually brought the pair to the doorway, which, too, was curtained with beads on string. They exited into the open streets of Midta, Carpenter’s Lane, and drew deep, panting breaths. The crowds around them quickly lost interest for why two young men suddenly had burst out of a humble noodle restaurant, and went about their days. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at each other and snickered.
“You ass. I’d be dead if he’d come after us.”
“Pfft. He never leaves his room - like he’d chase down a pair of rookies over some banter. Come on, let’s get a drink. The Drunken Muckling should be opening now.”
“Huh, so it should,” On-Yee agreed and followed Fabonsan down the street. Lining the road sat a number of beggars, human and muckling, side-by-side. A muckling sage was chanting in their guttural tongue, the beauty of the melody wasted on human ears. In its hands, the muckling rubbed pieces of bone. On-Yee frowned curiously at the creature before Fabonsan pulled him along.
“Don’t stare too hard, Sunny - auguring Mucklings ain’t nothing to stare.”
“Auguring?”
Fabonsan nodded. “My ma used to say the Mucklings got this special sight they can use when they talk to their gods. Lets them see what’s yet to come. However, if you distract them, they’ll look at you, and they’ll see how you die. Then, they’ll tell you.”
On-Yee looked back. The Muckling sage’s eyes were fixed firmly on the bones, though he could feel that, somehow, it was glaring fiercely at him.
"By the way, how's your back?" Fabonsan asked.
"Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, it stings a bit still." As if to prove the point, On-Yee rubbed one of his shoulders.
"That's normal. The ink needs time to settle and grow familiar with your body. You want it to sit, after all. What’d you pick?”
“Huh?”
“What motif, dumby! What’d you pick?”
“Oh, uh… A tiger.”
Fabonsan gave him a frown, then a long, drawn-out, monotonous hum. On-Yee blinked.
“What?”
“No, it’s just… Not very, uh… Original, ‘s all.”
On-Yee huffed. “What do you mean? It’s the animal of the triads!”
“Uh, yeah! Exactly. Wow, you actually went with--... Is it because of the Lion? Are you going to be the Lion’s Tiger, is that it?”
On-Yee blushed so much that a pair of bypassing ladies giggled at him. “N-no! ‘Course not! It’s just--... I really like tigers! They’re strong, fierce, beautiful.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Fabonsan replied and sighed. “Ugh, here I was hoping you’d pick something more… Personal. Something other than the actual animal of the triads. You could’ve been the Shark, or, or… The elephant!”
“There’s already an elephant, though,” On-Yee protested.
“Yeah, but for every elephant, I can guarantee you that there are twenty tigers.”
On-Yee rolled his eyes. “Ugh… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d actually pick a tiger! Well, either way, now you’ve gotta live with it. Look on the bright side - the Lion may have a soft spot for clichés?”
On-Yee rubbed his eyes and groaned. Fabonsan patted him supportively on the shoulder. “D’aaw, cheer up, Sunny. We’re here.” On-yee looked up to see the red doors of the Drunken Muckling winehouse, the outside littered as usual with drunkards and vomit and drunkards in vomit. On-Yee took in the smell and cringed. Oh yeah, this was familiar.
“You’re buying the first round, right?” Fabonsan asked with a grin.
“Wait, why?”
“‘Cause you’re the one that got scolded, of course. Loser buys drinks.”
On-Yee frowned. “I didn’t know this was a competition.”
A lake- and riverfaring empire with a long history situated south of the Midland Sea.
The imperial family and the court are mostly comprised of Elves, with a few lower positions being held by humans and, in the southern settlements, draconians. The most populated areas of the empire, the riverlands and lakelands, are home to mainly humans and mucklings.
Gu-Wei is a hereditary empire that claims to trace its heritage all the way back to ancient Muha.
Their proximity to and mastery of the lake and its rivers makes them an able trading empire. The state is dependent on the grain, fish and fabric trade for its income. The currency used is the gu-weian bei, small metal shards with holes in the centre.
The nation speaks a multitude of languages with no standardisation efforts beyond the requirement to speak guanyan, or ‘official speak’, when applying for a position at court. The written word is known as guwen and is largely standardised in the governmental positions. Guanyan is also being used by traders as a lingua franca.
Population: 14 million with a total army size of 210 000 professional soldiers.
Wealth: Rich, but disparities are considerable.
Espionage: Poor.
Elves (Huangzu): A ruling minority of elves claiming to descend for the nobles of Muhakim. They are typically tall and fair of skin, naturally lean and almost enchantingly beautiful. The Huangzu elves hold all upper positions of government, including the position as the royal family. Their numbers are few, however, and what little their supposed heritage knew about magic has long since been watered out of the bloodline. Today, this ruling minority suffers a multitude of issues related to inbreeding and mind-sicknesses. An emperor akin to those from the olden days has not been seen for centuries.
Elves (Puzu): A larger group of peasant and gentry elves that hold smaller areas of land around the capital. Physically, they are quite similar to the Huangzu, with the exception of typically more colour variations of the skin, shorter ears and more rugged features. These are considered noble enough to hold lower positions of government, with the worthiest even being allowed to serve at the royal courts. However, interbreeding between the huangzu and puzu is considered taboo.
Humans (Renzu): The decisively largest single group in the empire, though its internal diversity is much greater than what government reports would have the emperor believe. The renzu is actually comprised of four smaller ethnic groups of humans found throughout the riverlands, lakelands and forests. In their own tongues, there are:
The Jianger-Kaan: Once a loose coalition of river tribes in the western wetlands, the Jianger-Kaan now make up a sizeable portion of the Gu-Wei population. Their homeland, the Guokou riverlands, are among the most fertile areas of the entire empire, and are thus simultaneously the most raided and most well-guarded area of the country. The Jianger-Kaan are themselves varied within, with skin and hair colour ranging from bronze to black, generally hard-worked and stocky builds, and close ties to the local water buffalo. Due to their importance to the empire as a whole, the Jianger-Kaan are well respected even among the elves, and are allowed a great deal of autonomy.
The Middlings: This group of humans are native to the lakelands, and have a presence all around the Midland Sea; however, only a few clans actually swear fealty to the Gu-Weian emperor. They aren’t as numerous as the Jianger-Kaan, but what they lack in numbers, they make up for in tradeskills, particularly in shipscraft and fishnet spinning. They known the lake and its rivers well, and also make up the bulk of the empire’s trading fleet. However, they are often disliked by the nobility for being opportunistic and profiteering, and typically suffer discrimination as a result. The Middlings typically have bronze or golden skin and black hair, and the males often grow long facial hair.
The Druïtha: Native to the thick forests of the central empire, the Druïtha are a simple group of various woodland tribes. Their culture has heavy elements of nature worship and emphasis on an ascetic lifestyle. While they more than often present a barrier for expansionist governors seeking to prospect for natural resources in the many sacred groves, the Druïtha have made themselves invaluable to the empire by sharing their secrets of silk production. While the people themselves are typically superstitious and easily aggravated, their skill in fabrics production has made the empire incredibly rich. Therefore, they are allowed great freedom of religion, movement and rights. The Druïtha are typically pale and rugged in appearance, with scars and tattoos covering their bodies.
The Esterlings: This group of humans are native to the eastern lakelands, riverlands and forests. They are a hardy, strong folk, with mainly bronze and black skin. Most of the males are bald and have large beards, while the females have hair of chestnut or black colours. Culturally, the Esterlings are stubborn and competitive of nature, putting their lives into their trades as blacksmiths, lumberers and farmers. Historically, the Esterlings have manned the economic powerhouse of the empire, the iron sludge forge towns, and are also responsible for some of the largest rebellions throughout history. They have a tense relationship with the elves, and their oral traditions hone their memory for when the elves cross the line next.
Mucklings (Xiongzu, or ôck-li’yoch): The mucklings are a beastfolk native to the Midland Sea. They are short-statured, stocky, frog-like humanoids that dwell on the border between land and water. Due to their ugliness, odd tongue and uncivilised way of life, these are often employed as slaves by the Middlings and lakeland governors. They begin life as tadpoles in the lake and grow throughout a five year period until reaching the humanoid stage, at which point they take on an amphibian lifestyle, hunting on land as well as underwater. Unless enslaves, they typically live in small villages on the lake and river banks and go about their days without much interference. While generally territorial and aggressive, they can rarely compete with the superior weaponry and armour of the imperial army. In the harbour cities, the mucklings often live in terrible slums. Much of their culture has been destroyed in the past centuries, but they have a deep-rooted shamanistic religion that centres around the tribe priest and the cycles of life and death and the tides.
Draconians (Longzu): Found primarily in the south, the diverse draconians make up a small minority in the overall population of the empire. However, due to the proximity of the Tsorodar Empire, draconians are often selected for positions of governorship in the south to keep relations warm, the pool of candidates primarily consisting of Bozak draconians. Draconians enjoy a decent rank among the citizens of the empire, often being employed as soldiers, pit fighters or hunters. As the Gu-Wei empire has no fixed caste system, Da’Covele runaways are sometimes caught on the border. While most of these are sent home to the Tsorodar empire to be executed, a fair number make it past the border unseen to start new lives in the less controlled areas of the empire.
According to the Imperial Doctrine (Year 757)…
A thousand years ago, the Muha emperor’s concubine, Sha-laxas Itha, pregnant with her firstborn son, was sent away, far away, to escape the danger of the rampant hordes of wickedness. Across hills and under branches, her chariot took her, until the horses were coughing blood and running on stumps sanded away by stone and root. So long was the journey, that before their unknown destination was reached, Sha-laxas Itha gave birth, and that which she had born was the son of the dawn and the night, emperor of tide and storm, or tree and beast. When the soldiers who had helped her returned the son to her arms, his very touch sealed shut the wounds he had torn on his way out, and from his first minute, the boy could speak.
So the young emperor spoke: “Bring the chariot to yonder hill; stick so your swords in the grass, o guardsmen, and wait until the sun has set. When dawn again has cast its rays upon this virgin soil of old, the realm my blood shall rule eternal, clearly will be seen.”
The guards obeyed, for none could dispute the miracle before themselves. So they in place of tortured horses shouldered the chariot by its drawbar and shaft, and with the mother and the emperor in the carriage, they brought it to the hill up ahead. At the top, they dug their blades into the soil and went to sleep. That night, they saw visions of a second Muhakim - a greater Muhakim - ruled by imperial blood as divine as had ruled their home for centuries.
When they woke up, at last, their emperor had spoken true - before them laid the rays of heaven, glaring down at the distant plain. There, between the lake and desert, the capital to stand a thousand years would be built.
Written by the predecessor to the current ruling dynasty, the Imperial Doctrine has become a staple of the imperial cult and the heritage of the royal family. However, in spite of its acceptance as historical fact, it overshadows the true founding of the Gu-Wei empire:
The first elves to settle the Xinguo, the empire heartlands between the Midland Sea and the southern deserts, may at some point have had ties to the Muha empire. However, the settlement of the heartlands happened 848 years ago as opposed to a thousand, and was largely limited to a small coalition of elven escapees from the north. Armed and armoured with superior technology, this coalition (known as the Guzu) began conquering and assimilating surrounding elven refugee tribes. Efforts were made early on to establish a centralised government, but due to limited access to food, rampant disease and constant conflict with local human tribes, the Guzu could never keep enough soldiers to maintain larger order. In the end, they were driven from the Xinguo heartlands and forced to trek northwards, where they eventually settled by the Midland Sea. In the year 207 of the second age, the settlement of Shi was founded by the first Guzu emperor, Rizan of the Shi dynasty.
The lakelands suffered few of the same issues as the heartlands, with the foreign tribes being fewer, less aggressive and easier to defend against, and the access to waterways allowing for much greater degree of inwards communication. Rizan was a capable emperor and a dedicated diplomat. He made peace early with the lakefarer tribes and initiated cultural exchange programs to acquire as much knowledge as he could about the land, the lake, the flora and fauna. Through these exchanges, the Guzu learned of the tribes’ foes, allies, disagreements and internal struggles. These slips of the tongue shortly became the graves of a multitude of tribes, as the Guzu pitted them against one another, bribed them, turned on old allies in favour of mightier favorites. The Guzu equipped their closest with bronze tools and weapons and watched them wipe out the smaller rebels who stood against the growing might of the Shi dynasty. By the year 297, the Guzu controlled all of the southern lakebank and a considerable chunk of the heartlands.
With the heartland recaptured and the empire’s strength boosted beyond recognition, Rizan looked away from the forested empire centre for a moment at the distant riverlands to the west. Tales from the human traders told of food in immeasurable abundance, and the last hundred years certainly had tested the larder sizes of the empire. They first moved in with diplomats, trying to learn from the multiple tribes along the great rivers; learn of their motives, their cultures - their enemies. Initial contact was friendly enough - trade agreements were settled and grain, fruit, legumes and vegetables flowed into Shi. However, the trade was lopsided - the royal advisors cautioned that much of the realm’s wealth was being drained in return for much too little crops. At the time, the Guzu had a complex iron industry, using iron sludge from the eastern swamplands. In return for a week’s worth of crops, the river tribes demanded enough iron to amount to two weeks of work. The trade simply wasn’t sustainable.
In 314, Rizan had had enough. The empire was by now in severe debt, and all too dependent on the grain trade, so the emperor rounded up the royal forces and went to war against the river tribes. It would be a conflict which would outlast the emperor himself, for the river tribes were crafty. They knew the wetlands would swallow whatever heavier cavalry the imperial forces employed, and their canoes and rafts much outpaces and outmaneuvered the cumbersome battle fleet of the Shi dynasty. The first few skirmishes brought nothing by losses to the empire: Ships were sunk; warriors, drowned; horses and chariots, forever lost in the swamps. In 361, after 47 years of war, emperor Rizan died of unknown causes. The losses the empire had suffered were immeasurable - some land had been conquered, only to be lost promptly thereafter as the enemy rallied against them. Fortifications built would just sink into the ground and break. Before long, the empire itself fell into turmoil as bordering tribes to the south and east initiated revolts. An opposing political faction arose in court known as the Sons of the Phoenix. They garnered support among the uprising factions as faction members would lead raids against imperial institutions and set free prisoners and slaves. In 366, the Phoenix Rebellion reached Shi and the Shi dynasty capitulated.
The Phoenix Sons’ saying went as such: “Like the bird of flame, our empire shall fall and rise again, more beautiful than ever.” In many ways, that mission succeeded. The first action the new emperor, Laoqun of the Feng dynasty, did was to end the grain trade with the river tribes. While this decision was unpopular at first, the empire’s population had been reduced so immensely that little to no starvation followed. Secondly, the emperor reduced the taxes on iron, salt and fabrics, nearly bankrupting the state a second time in a decade. However, public opinion was high and Laoqun dedicated his rule to building up again the lost trust of the border tribes. The ban on other races than elves at court was lifted, and the royal family was soon counselled by elves, humans and even the occasional muckling. The diversity of the empire prospered as a result, and the proto-tribes of the Middlings and Druïtha could be seen working their crafts in street shops. However, not all bonds would heal so easily, and the river tribes were particularly hateful of the Guzu. Laoqun thus decided to never send elves to negotiate with them, but instead send humans. After all, humans had much more in common with other humans than elves did.
However, the peaceful solution Laoqun had dreamed of did not come to pass. By year 401, the lake tribe coalition that had sworn fealty to the Feng dynasty was at war with the river tribes, and the contract binding the lake tribes to the empire forced the imperial army into the conflict. The royal coffers had barely recovered in the past forty years and Laoqun knew that the empire couldn’t survive another war like the dreaded War of A Man’s Age. The emperor sent out emissaries to all corner of the empire, begging for support. A number honoured their oaths, but the emissaries returned largely empty-handed.
The emperor thus had no choice but to raise the taxes. Initial backlash was merciless, with open rebellion in the eastern regions and the threat of a two-front war on the horizon. However, the Feng dynasty couldn’t afford to break its alliance with the lake people: for one, they kept the coffers full with loyally paid taxes and trade; secondly, they were much too close. In the year 407, as the east drew closer and closer to a loss and the river tribes gave no sign of struggle, the emperor died of a stroke. His successor, Mengshi, unrelated to the emperor by blood and instead chosen on account of his merit, ordered the lake tribes to pull out of the river lands and concentrate fully on containing the eastern rebellions. While initial responses were stubborn and unwilling, the lake tribes eventually left the river lands and sailed east to the Iron Swamps. With the reinforcements in place, the Guzu forces allied with loyal human tribes and the lake peoples turned the tides of war completely, forcing the rebels far away into the eastern forests. The Guzu commanders installed a powerful garrison and made bloody examples of rebel prisoners in the streets and on the borders -- blood eagle torture and flaying were commonly practiced to instill fear in the hearts of the rebels. The Guzu blamed all the horror in the region on the uprisers, and a hatred begun to fester in the people against the opposition. In year 406, enemies of the Feng dynasty were given a bounty of ten bei, enough to feed a family of five for a month. Traitors were rooted out like weeds in the garden, and the witch hunt almost started a second round of turmoil; however, it was much more stable than the region had been before.
With the east under control, Mengshi set his eyes west again. There would be no hope in a frontal assault again. While control of the east provided a much needed source of income for the imperial coffers again, an attack on the river lands would be outright suicidal. So he would wait. The river tribes would never leave their own lands to attack - it was much too easy to defend and nigh impossible to attack from; however, could the emperor give them a reason?
For centuries, he planned and taunted the riverlands, often offering them mockingly beautiful gifts to show how stellar the heartlands had become. By 580, alliances made with the Druïtha and various other human woodland tribes came together to conquer the heartlands in the name of the Feng dynasty, so silk flowed through Shi like water through the riverlands. Emissaries were constantly sent back without their heads, hands, legs or noses, but Mengshi pressed on. Surely enough, by the year 600, various factions in the riverlands begun viewing the empire through different lenses. Trade opened up again, but the emperor’s men were certain to keep the prices under their control. The empire prospered, and slowly, slowly, the imperial traders were feeding the river tribes misinformation, lies and deceit about their allies, turning the tribes against one another. In 611, the chief of the Jianger-Kaan, one of the smaller river tribes, came to the royal court for an audience. They spoke of oppression and betrayal from the Ungur-zun, lords of the headwaters, and wanted their vengeance. If the empire offered their aid, the Jianger-Kaan would smuggle a force across Laojiang, the widest river and the biggest thorn in the side of any attack plan to seize the wetlands. While the imperial warfleet was well known and hated among the river tribes, none would suspect the small galleys of Jianger-Kaan.
This was the opportunity the emperor had waited for. Immediately, he agreed to send over ten thousand troops to lay siege to the Ungur-zun capital of Dosr-ung. The assault happened later that year; the river clans had not a minute to react. The transport across the Laojiang had been swift and efficient, and the soldiers had hidden in the dense woods until the time came to strike. When the war horns sounded, an unprepared city faced ten thousand armoured elves and men. Dosr-ung fell within hours.
With the greatest and most powerful river tribe under imperial control, more and more rose up against their oppressive masters in hopes that they would gain imperial favour. By 613, the riverlands, the bane of emperor Rizan and the Shi dynasty, and a five century old thorn in the side of the Guzu elves, were finally under the control of the Feng dynasty.
A hundred years of prosperity followed: Riverland grain flowed into the capital of Shi and the population grew with unprecedented speed. In fact, population growth was so rapid that the nobles at court began to fear that the empire had become dependent on the western riverlands - too dependent. Various factions rose up at court, all of which came up with their own solutions to the problem. Emperor Mengshi, while popular among the people (or, well, those that knew of him), had grown quite unpopular in court of late, primarily among the elven cliques. The ones united Sons of the Phoenix had split into a multitude of subfactions, which added deeper complexity to the already diverse court. In 715, a grave plague broke out in Shi that spread out across the land, bringing with it an unfathomable death toll. Emperor Mengshi took ill and died within weeks of the outbreak, and in his place rose a faction of the Muha Brotherhood, a faction believing in the supremacy of elvenkind. They quickly surrounded themselves with guards and walls of words, arresting anyone who spoke up against their segregating ways. Other races were banned from court, causing great turmoil in the many factions of the empire. The plague that had ravaged the realm was blamed on the mucklings’ unclean way of life, and a great culling followed, effectively ending muckling society as it had existed for millennia.
In 737, the Druïtha of the Heartlands burst into an outrage as imperial forces sent lumberers to turn Düatha-de-Eamhair, the main grove of the northern circle, into farmland. The outrage was met with violence, which spurred a great rebellion which would come to be known as the Ashen War. Druïtha humans were vicious in their attacks and knew their wooden terrian better than the imperial armies of Guzu elves, Jianger-Kaan sailors and various other human tribes. As brave as the woodland tribes were, however, they could not withstand the fire arrows and pitch-rolled boulders of the imperial forces. The entire grove was reduced to ashes, and the Druïtha subdued through force. By 755, the Muha Brotherhood cast aside the name of the Feng dynasty and instead named their own emperor, Guxiong of the Ge dynasty.
Guxiong began his work immediately, ordering every writer and historian in the capital to draft a census of lineages in the court, and to begin work on what he and the Muha Brotherhood called the Imperial Doctrine. For too long had the Guzu mingled with lesser races on the quest for greatness - it had soiled their sacred heritage and impeded their mission to lay all the world beneath a new Muha empire. As such, the Muha Brotherhood and the emperor’s men wrote volumes upon volumes of history tracing Guxiong’s bloodline back to the last emperor of Muha, and his favorite concubine, Sha-laxas Itha. The court enforced this new doctrine that spoke of a sacred magical heritage from a thousand years past, and a bright future that would, like the phoenix, rise again out of the ashes even stronger than before.
A complete overhaul of the state was also in order: For nearly five hundred years, the state had been primarily built around the capital of Shi, with few to no actual elven settlements beyond. Lesser races had not actually been governed; they had gone about their own ways, occasionally paid taxes and then taken up arms upon the emperor’s command. In terms of control, the previous emperor could point to but a few lose lines on a map and vaguely declare that those were the empire’s borders. However, everyone at court knew that over half the peasants, woodlanders, lakefarers and other tribes they governed only knew of the empire as two to three armoured guards that occasionally stopped by their village demanding grain.
Guxiong and his clique agreed - this would not do.
It began in 758 with the installment of a new rank - governor. The country was divided into sixteen provinces, each to be governed by an elven governor sent from the capital. The governor would enforce imperial law and doctrines on the citizens of the empire, and see to it that not only taxes were paid, but that the citizens also paid an imperial tithe directly to the imperial family. To avoid separatism, each province was also monitored by an envoy of the emperor, and the traditionally tumultuous east was divided into a multitude of provinces to avoid any one province seizing power in the area.
By 760, however, it became abundantly clear quite quickly that the peoples of the empire had quite the opposite opinion on how the country should be run. In the newly dubbed provinces of Duyin (Druïthim) and Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama), the imperial doctrine of an emperor of divine origins strictly counterspoke the Druïtha belief that no living being could ever descend from divinity, and that the only contact the living could establish with the gods was one through harmony and unity with nature. Furthermore, the local governors agreed that the main commodity of value in the province was silk, and it was declared that the local tithes should be paid in silk. However, the harvesting and processing of silk was a sacred ritual to the Druïtha, and to hurry it along in any way was considered wanton blasphemy. Any effort to increase production in time for tithe season was thus met with hostilities and at times open conflict.
The provinces of Guokoubei (Northern Riverlands), Guokounan (Southern Riverlands) and Jiangdi (Jianger) faired little better. The local festivals around sowing season and harvesting season were banned on account of overlapping with the emperor’s birthday and the Month of Ancestors. Immediately, this sparked rampant riots throughout all three provinces. Food exports to the Heartlands were stopped nigh overnight, and chaos erupted soon after in the central regions. In the east, too, tensions grew high as the oral traditions passed down for generations were suppressed in favour of the imperial cult. Even the far south, which had been a largely stable part of the country for centuries, experienced riots as Draconians grew unimpressed by the weak-bodied leadership of puny elves.
As quickly as they could, the governors sent messages to the emperor, urging him to roll back the tithe reforms and the emphasis on the imperial doctrine, but the emperor would not answer them back. No, for as riots ravaged the countryside and the capital grew famished, the emperor and his closest delved into the deepest dungeons of the imperial palace, where they began to call for angels, demons - anything that could save them in their peril. Meanwhile, one of the governors, Yandi of Sunguo (Sunnaland), united the other governors of the east in a rebellion against the Ge dynasty. Yandi had grown sympathetic to the Esterlings’ cause, seeing the tyranny in suppressing centuries of culture all to legitimise a despotic rule. The rebel armies met little resistance on the way, indifferent governors and supportive soldiers allowing them safe passage. They entered the royal palace to see that the emperor and his who clique had committed ritualistic suicide in a vain effort to summon some form of dark magic. Whether they had succeeded is unknown, but what was certain was that a new leader was needed. Yandi took it upon himself to see the systems of his predecessor undone, and was in 763 crowned emperor Yandi of the Wu dynasty.
During his reign, Yandi removed the restrictions on who could serve as governor, but he did not quite open up the court. During his initial days as ruler, he uncovered a dozen unfinished or prototype plans for possible reforms, many of which he confessed were quite revolutionary. Among other things was a population census, far from completed but vaguely drafted. It categorised the many citizens of the empire into actual groups for the first time: There were two kinds of elf, likely to legitimise the number of elves he threw out of the city for disagreeing with the imperial doctrine; the humans were united into one group, perhaps a reason behind their recent rebellion; the mucklings, who had been reduced to meagre vermin stalking the streets of Shi and the banks of the Midland Sea, were included for some reason; and the Draconians of the south. It was a rough draft, but a draft nonetheless.
Further digging into the many proposals made Yandi ponder if the previous emperor truly had been so mad and despotic as he had thought: Many of these reforms would effectivise the state considerably, including a standardised system of writing, a standing army, quarterly taxation instead of monthly… The list went on. Yandi would keep some and scrap some.
By 783, the majority of governors were from the actual province they governed, which solved a number of issues. Yandi declared that the imperial doctrine should no longer be enforced, but instead taught as imperial history to those seeking to enter a position at court. Local customs were legalised once more, and the tumult slowly begun to die down again. Governor power was restricted further, and beyond taxation and military drafts, the central government remained largely invisible to the majority imperial citizens. Anyone seeking a position in government had to learn the standardised script known as guwen; traders and trading guilds who operated with written accounts also had to learn to be allowed into imperial ports. The Greater Shi area developed a local dialect which became the official tongue of the empire, known as guanyan. Finally, the bei was introduced as the standard currency for all to use, phasing out among other things the barter economy of the Druïtha. Standard weights and measurements were also enforced, based on the Middling units used in trade.
A century passed under Yandi’s rule and reforms were passed slowly and allowed the populace time to adjust. Yandi’s royal court had come to be known as the Huangzu, just as Guxiong and his clique had wanted. These elves were of Yandi’s own blood and served in the highest seats of government. The emperor made certain to maintain good relations with them all at all times, and was thorough when it came to emphasising that he was descended from Muha, and that he himself had been chosen to rule out of all of his family by angelic mandate. This idea of the angelic mandate was spread throughout the empire and adapted for local cultures. All would know that to unseat the emperor was to go against the will of the angels and gods. The tax system had filled the state coffers with metal, food and fabrics, all of which were spent on great structures to honour the greatness of the Wu dynasty. Shi was no longer alone in being the only great city in the empire. Other centres of industry, trade and growth popped up around the realm: Jiangla and Jianger in the riverlands, with populations numbering almost a million each; Amarra, jewel of the east, an industrial port city with nearly seven hundred thousand diligent workers keeping the iron forges flaring day and night; Norrabi in the Sunnaland province, uniting the fabrics of the Druïtha groves and jewels and minerals of the southern deserts with the markets of the north. The country was blooming; the phoenix had risen again from the ashes.
At the mark of the 900th year of the 2nd Age, emperor Yandi declared to all that the empire of the Guzu elves, which for so long had existed without a truly defined name beyond the Guzu or whatever name of the dynasty in power had chosen, were to be given a true name. He took the first character of the Guzu name, 古, meaning ancient, and claimed the only character he deemed worthy to describe the empire: 威, wei, the guwen character for might. In guanyan, thusly, the empire was named Gu-Wei, ‘ancient might’.
It would be wrong to classify the Gu-Wei empire’s culture as a singular thing. With the multitude of ethnic groups and cultural criss-crossing between the various races, Gu-Wei is host to a plethora of different customs, ranging from clothing to festivities to languages. Here are some examples:
To a high degree, the whole empire follows a loose set of laws laid out by various emperors since the dawn of the empire. These include the usual passages, such as prohibiting murder, stealing, adultery and various other malicious practices. However, while a standardised system of law has been in the works over the past two centuries, the Elves of Shi cannot seem to rid their realm completely of a number of older laws that stick to their subjects like marrow in the bones.
Riverland Law: The Blood Debt
A remarkable trait among the riverlanders is their blood debt law, which states that any murder entitles the family of the deceased to a life from the killer’s family. This debt can be paid either through servitude, death or property. Due to the severity of the two first options, most choose to pay the family of the deceased the amount equal to the life of their dead relative. These prices are standardised, with the death of an adult male costing a thousand bei; an adult woman, two thousand bei; a child under the age of fifteen summers, five hundred bei; an elder above the age of forty summers regardless of gender, a thousand bei. Occassionally, however, some will choose the path of servitude. In the event that this happens, the killer or someone from the killer’s family is chained to the deceased’s family until death, regardless of whether the family believes the debt has been paid. The family chooses how they wish to treat the servant, and the servant has no right to argue against unfair treatment. Most servants die shortly after enslavement due to overworking.
Druïtha Law: The Sacred Groves
The sacred groves are defined as any forested area that the druids have declared carries seeds of the gods. These groves are respected and cared for like children, for they are the only worldly connections to the gods, without which the world would be doomed. Therefore, harming the groves in anyway is punishable by death. Harming can be as little as peeling bark off of the trees.
Druïtha Law: The Law of Nature’s Speed
Nature takes its time with everything - nothing is ever hastened along, or so the Druïtha say. Unlike their Esterling neighbours to the northeast, the Druïtha shun all manner of mass production or unsustainable resource extraction. Therefore, any effort to ‘hurry nature along’ (that being increasing production at the cost of nature, for example filling the forest with silk worms which then eat all the leaves and shrubberies around), is prohibited and punishable by death.
Esterling Law: Right to Duel
Few qualities are more important to an Esterling than pride - the very act of losing face or causing someone to lose face can ruin a person’s whole career - whole life, even. Thus, whenever an Esterling is insulted gravely, they can invoke the right to duel, at which point the insulter and insultee will both draw swords and fight until one of them falls. This right is culturally accepted and the winner is not charged with murder afterwards regardless of the imperial laws prohibiting such.
Middling Law: Embargo-Free
The Middlings believe in great profits, and centuries of knowing the markets and trade have led them to choose any port whenever, regardless of whether its friendly or mean. Due to their importance to the imperial coffers, the Middlings are effectively allowed to smuggle and trade with the enemy as much as they want, provided they can show the port authorities adequate documents.
Crafting carries many meanings throughout the empire: In the east, crafting refers to the way of life for the citizens of the forge-cities, fashioning rusty sludge into iron tools and weapons; to the Druïtha, craftsmanship is turning silk into fabric and wood into totems and idols; the Jianger-Kaan see craftsmanship in culinary art, spending hours and even days perfecting recipes; the Draconians see craftsmanship in jewelry and even martial arts; the mucklings practice shell art and stone carving to shape idols of worship in their villages and slums. The Elves, both Huangzu and Puzu, practice goldsmithing and jewelcrafting using the resources imported from the south, and the Middlings build great ships for both the trade fleet and warfleet of the empire. Additionally, the Guzu elves of old passed down schematics and trade secrets in medicine, papercraft and construction, which especially the Puzu Elves make good use of in expansion of Gu-Wei culture throughout the realm.
Clothing varies a great deal throughout the empire, with each ethnic group differing slightly depending on local customs and climate. Largely, however, the availability of silk and flax fabrics and the overall warmth of the southern temperate areas, the majority of the populace wears light clothing in the form of tunics, robes and baggy pants.
The Huangzu commonly dress in fine silks with bejeweled embroideries, using materials from all across the realm. The daily clothing follows a strict gender-based code, where males wear black or white robes and females wear red, blue or green. What colour one wears is decided by one’s station and relationship with the emperor. The emperor himself wears only yellow to signify their station. Other colours denote: Male: What the male fashion shares in common is an emphasis on one or two colours for the whole attire: Black with gold, white with blue.
Black: Father/uncle/older brother to the emperor. Has limited power at court, but husbands will make decisions in the emperor’s place if the emperor for some reason is unavailable. Those dressed in black function as advisors to the emperor. As they are figures of importance for the emperor’s growth, the emperor repays them with respect and wealth.
White: Cousins, nephews, sons, young brother: Those that wear white have no power initially unless granted a position, typically in the military or in provincial governance. The white robes are typically referred to as ‘scholardress’ as the emperor’s cousins, nephews, sons and younger brothers are forced to undergo an intense education so they one day can serve their leader as able officers or statesmen.
Female: As opposed to male clothing, female dresses often have multiple different colours and embroideries to complement and contrast the base tint. Furthermore, they often wear short jackets of contrasting colours.
Blue: Emperor’s mother/aunt/older sister: Serves in advisory positions as well as caretakers of the emperor. They oversee management of the royal estates such as the summer and winter palaces, and the central palace grounds in Shi. The blue-clothed are nonetheless very well respected, and traditions dictate that the emperor must see to it that these individuals are married to good men and given wealthy homes.
Red: Cousines, nieces, daughters and younger sisters of the emperor: Much like their male counterparts, this group is put in education to serve the emperor. However, due to the tight familial bonds among the Huangzu, most of the red-clothed are sent into domestic education to serve as the emperor’s future concubines or wives to the emperor’s sons and brothers.
Green: The emperor’s wife and concubines: Compared to the other groups, these enjoy quite a bit of freedom, being closest to the emperor and the bearer of his children (provided they live to not see their father overthrown).
Military Fashion: Another trait common among the males of Huangzu is ceremonial armour in official ceremonies. This armour is heavy and cumbersome, but incredibly beautiful and a strong sign of wealth and might. Due to its expense, however, it’s typically only worn by those closest to the emperor.
Puzu Elves typically hold lower positions in government or at court at the most, and the majority are either peasants, artisans or scholars. Their clothing is not colour-coded as strictly as that of Huangzu, but heavy influences from the central court create certain norms for what to wear. Among the gentry, for example, one is expected to at least own one attire in the style of Huangzu silk for ceremonial and official occasions. Here, the men are expected to wear black or white, and the women red or blue, though the colours are not tied to particular positions. However, outside of Greater Shi and deeper into the Heartlands, the gender divide on colours is less rigid, meaning Puzu governors outside of Greater Shi often wear red robes and consider it a proud cultural trait.
Those who are of lesser means and birth usually wear linen or leather, depending on what’s available. The heat can get intense in the summer, especially further into the Heartlands or in the south in Druïthim. Those who are well off among the peasantry try their best to appear like Huangzu by wearing linen robes fashioned from flax. The richest estate farmers hire master spinners to fashion them such clothing, and some attires are nearly indistinguishable at a glance.
Druïtha live in moist, hot, dense forests, and many go out into the open barely clothed save loincloths to cover the bare necessities. What is typical is that much of what they wear is made from that most comfortable of fabrics, silk. It was said back when the Guzu first made contact with the Druïtha that even their beggars gather the food they earn in sacks of woven silk. The material is in such overflow that its only true value to the Druïtha is religious. Dyeing clothes is a newer concept, however, introduced by the Guzu; it has only been roughly two centuries since the Druïtha began dyeing the clothes they wear. As opposed to the other ethnicities of the empire, the Druïtha are openly against the fashion of the capital, and the governors of Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama often suffer hard glares when official ceremonies force them to don Huangzu clothing.
Esterlings are a simple folk that wear what best complements their work, be it light clothing with thick gloves and boots in the forge-cities, leather and thick cloaks to ward off the autumn and winter elements in the fields, bare-torsoed in the baking sun. The common materials found in Esterling clothing are linen and leather; the richer gentry and nobles will occasionally wear Huangzu silk during official visits or when making visits.
Middlings dress in what they sell, most often, so many of the merchants dress themselves in silk and linen fabrics, often in the form of turbans and robes. The Midland Sea is known to occasionally be quite windy, so baggy, insulating clothing solves both issues of hot and cold. Landbound merchants, especially the rich, gladly dress themselves like Huangzu and Puzu nobility, as to appear even richer.
The Jianger-Kaan typically only wear clothing to protect from the elements, such as the powerful summer sun or the torrential winter rains. Clothing is typically restricted to loincloths in the Southern Riverlands, tunic and skirts growing in popularity to both the north and south. The richest wear leather fashioned from the skin of water buffalo or Huangzu silks, depending on their station. Due to slight distrust of the Elves, however, the majority of riverfolk still carry resentment towards Guzu culture. They also often wear large, shield-like, circular straw hats when working.
The Muckling clothing is often simple, limited to loincloths and vests. Depending on whether they live in villages or slums, their clothing may vary from primal, but whole, to poor and ragged. The mucklings use leather to make armour, though centuries of repression and cultural loss has left much of their more complex culture in ruins.
Gender: Gender differences is viewed differently throughout the empire, but the imperial doctrine is quite specific about the role of women in government - that being that it is nonexistent. According to the imperial doctrine, women serve as masters of the home, not what’s beyond it.
Among the Huangzu, this means that women possess quite a lot of authority within the imperial palaces, but are functionally powerless outside of them. Women cannot hold positions of governance or military posts, either. Among the Puzu, the laws stay much the same: Women are largely restricted to the home while men decide matters relating to what’s outside of it. The same culture applies to much of the Jianger-Kaan and the rest of the riverfolk, which coincides neatly with imperial doctrine.
In Esterling and Druïtha territory, however, women have traditionally taken a much greater role outside of the home: Forge-cities are manned just as much by women and men, and Druïthan men are forbidden from serving in the military, as they instead must follow the path of druidism. These cultural rifts have caused numerous disputes throughout history, and the Druïtha still do not offer soldiers to the imperial army on account of the male requirement. Hierarchy: Social mobility isn’t impossible in the empire, but it’s strictly controlled. The Huangzu make all imperial decisions, and all the realm’s subjects must (ideally) accept them without question; however, the various governors around the realm and their advisors make more specialised decisions on the local scale. Furthermore, a small minority of advisors at court comprised on non-Huangzu officials may potentially have a small sway in national decisions, but these are few and reliant on connections to spread their influence.
Outside of the royal sphere, however, potentially anyone can rise to become a lesser official or even provincial governor. All they require are is an education at the Imperial Academy in Shi and a mentor who will speak for them during elections. This right is universal for elves, humans and draconians. Mucklings are not allowed to apply to the Imperial Academy.
Any decision made at the provincial level is absolute and will be enforced through law. For this reason, locals are often encouraged to participate in local politics through dialogue with the provincial government to achieve the most harmonious agreements.
In terms of racial hierarchy, the elves regardless of type are above humans, and enjoy certain handicaps in court of law, such as shorter and milder sentences compared to their shorter-lived counterparts. Draconians and humans have equal standing in society, though kobolds that sneak across Gu-Wei borders are treated as lesser and often shunned. Mucklings are at the bottom.
As mentioned, the written word, guwen, is standardised across the whole realm as the only written language accepted in transactions, official and unofficial documents and literature. It’s a logographic script supposedly derived from ancient Muha magical glyphs. It is incredibly difficult to learn and requires a great deal of financial and time investments, which is one of the reasons literacy rates are borderline nonexistent outside of the higher gentry and nobility. However, guwen has been a boon for Esterlings, Middlings and Jianger-Kaan alike, as these civilisations never possessed a written language, or used one that was underdeveloped and insufficient. The Druïtha unofficially use a runic, syllabic script that is officially banned, but secretly allowed for religious reasons.
As for spoken languages, the Gu-Wei empire is incredibly diverse in the centre and much more unified in the riverlands. Water unites, so the Jianger-Kaan dialect of xiyu (western talk, or riverfolk speak) is not so different from the Ungur-zun all the way up to the northern border.
All xiyu names have the following structure: [place of origin, birth, work, etc.]+[attributive particle]+[given name]. An example would be the governor of the Southern Riverlands, Bast im Ratinmaar - Ratinmaar is his given name, "im" is an attributive particle, which denotes that he is "of" whatever comes before it, which is this case is the city of Bast, the second largest city in the province after Jiangla - in other words, his name means Ratinmaar of Bast. Throughout the riverlands region, this structure stays the same, though pronounciation changes as you move further south: In Jianger province, "im" is pronounced "min", and in Longway, it's pronounced "mi".
In the east, the situation is similar: Rivers and the Midland Sea have united most of the east and Midland around very similar tongues, exceptions being the borders between Origo and Ithram, where dense forests and scattered populations have led to the development of some strange languages that are largely unintelligible to the rest of the Esterlings.
While Middling names have exceptions, the Esterlings as a whole has a very strict, specialised way of naming children. A given name is constructed from a root syllable of the parent's name (can be either mother or father), then an additional syllable to give the child their own name, then is finished with a suffix denoting gender (-sun, -san, -sen if the child is a boy; -dar, -dor, -dehr if the child is a girl - the pronounciation varies depending on region). The last name is then constructed from the patron god or matron goddess' name's first syllable, completed with the suffix -mir, meaning "descendant". For example: Governor Honursan Yomir - his mother's name was Mahondor Yomir, so her root syllable is 'hon'. This becomes the first syllable. Secondly, Honursan's personal name is the syllable ur, meaning 'pride'. This becomes the second syllable. Finally, Honursan is male, so his gender suffix is -san. His family matron goddess is the ancient ancestor Yo, meaning his matron name is Yomir.
Middlings have followed this tradition at times, and governor Bonursan Sunna of Midland was given a first name according to this convention; however, Middlings also have their own conventions, related more to place of origin or homestead than bloodline. Bonursan Sunna may be named by Esterling conventions, but his family name denotes instead where he's from - Sunnaland. Furthermore, the head of the Blue Phoenix Company in Midta, Unsur Quam, shares no conventions with the Esterlings, his given name being entirely that of his father and his last name saying he's from the town of Quam in Midland.
The southeastern Heartlands and Druïthim, however, have some tongue that even after 500 years of cultural exchange remain largely uninfluenced or unchanged from the isolated languages native to the Druïtha woods. The Druïtha speak in total eight different languages with a much greater number of dialects. The languages spoken in the Dûna-de-Hama province, specifically in the provincial capital Hi-Dûna, have been heavily influenced by Esterspeak due to trade, with the Hi-Dûna dialect even having been changed slightly at a syntactic level.
Any names of Celtic origin will do.
The language spoken in Shi, specifically the one used by the Huangzu and the Puzu, is known as guanyan. This is an old Elven-derived language with tones and limited consonants. To know it fluently is a requirement to graduate from the Imperial Academy in Shi, and is used in all political processes. Among traders it also functions as a lingua franca within the empire.
Guanyan names are always two to three syllables long, composed of a family name and a given name. Either of these can be one syllable, but only one of them can be two. For example, governor Zhang Mozhang (guwen: 張墨章) of the Heartland's name is three syllables long; governor Áed the Pale of Druïthim's guanyan name, Bai Ye (guwen: 白頁), is two syllables long. Each syllable is connected to a written guwen character, all of which strictly have one syllable and a meaning. All students at the Imperial Academy are required to take and use a name in guwen - many replace their own name with it.
The Muckling tongue commands a wholly different repertoire of sounds than what elven or human mouths can properly replicate. Several words incorporate croaks of different tones and intensity, sounds which are completely necessary to properly convey meaning. Differences between stressed and unstressed croaks may mean the difference between warning someone that the village is in danger and calling one’s conversation partner fat. The grammar lacks tense, instead conveying meaning by laying down a context then explaining one’s point; for example, in order to tell someone else that something else happened yesterday, a muckling would say “yesterday, something happens”. In addition to the already difficult oral elements, the Muckling language incorporates a number of hand and facial gestures to convey meaning, such as tapping their chests to indicate 'self' or tapping their fingers together to convey the word 'name' before pronouncing it. Furthermore, while it’s been severely marginalised over the course of the centuries, there is a higher form of Muckling speech known in history scrolls as croaksong or rrurrt-yk-xechen. Once, this was a special dialect of mucklingspeak with its own grammar and diction, entirely dedicated to oral poetry, song and religious practices. Long strings of various croaks and ribbits would weave together into religious choral music that went on long into the night. These days, only a number of ageing tribe shamans are familiar with the tongue; in town slums, the tongue has been lost for ages.
Muckling names are difficult to write down, as their language translates poorly to any sort of phonemic writing. Common sounds are guttural or croak-like, which are hard to convey properly with text. However, general conventions rely mainly on sounds like "ribbit", "croak", "rwahck" and "och". Several consonants in a row are also common.
To the Elves, there are three great celebrations throughout the year: The Month of the Ancestors, the Emperor’s Birthday and the Literature Festival.
Month of the Ancestors: This is a month-long event during which both Huangzu and Puzu elves mourn those that have passed and pray for advice and blessings for the coming year. During the start of the month, graves are sweeped and washed, and children are expected to make offerings of a tenth of what they earn or reap during that month to their parents. As the month nears its end, great festivals are thrown to praise the festivals and bring great fortune in the coming year. There are musical performances, theatre telling stories of the past, dance numbers and, of course, feasts in abundance. Falls on the first month of every year.
The Emperor’s Birthday: Celebrating this day goes back all the way to the first emperor Rizan, whose birthday was on the seventh day of the tenth moon. The manner of celebration has stayed largely constant, with great markets and games in Shi. Nowadays, great gladiatorial tournaments are arranged in a specialised arena called the Phoenix Nest. While this fighting pit is open all year round, it’s especially active on this day. Emperor Yandi’s birthday is the ninth day of the third month.
The Literature Festival: Largely a local festival in Shi, the Literature Festival is in truth a different name for the Imperial Academy graduation ceremony. The academy grounds is first filled with stalls manned by the soon-to-be graduates presenting their final works of prose or poetry. Then at midday, the top ten students will present summaries of their works for all to hear. Finally, the academy principal announces that the students are worthy graduates and then open markets in the streets selling food and commodities for the families to gift their newly graduated son.
Jianger-Kaan festivities mainly relate to the sowing season and the harvesting season, which due to the riverlands’ fertility happen twice per year. After the emperor allowed for the Month of Ancestors to be celebrated simultaneously with other festivals, the riverfolk have also taken up this custom.
The Sowing Festival: Falls on the second month and the eighth month. A village wide celebration during which the many families come together to preserve what they have left in the form of wine, beer, preserves or other dishes. Animals are also typically slaughtered for this festival both to let the farmers eat themselves fat and strong, and to smoke and dry the meat for the long wait until the harvest.
The Harvest Festival: Falls on the sixth month and the twelfth month. The whole village comes together to reap the fruits of their labour and enjoy it in the form of great feasts of noodles, steamed and baked goods and various stews and soups.
Middlings and Esterlings share common celebrations. Additionally, they both celebrate Month of the Ancestors.
The Harvest Festival (East): Quite similar to the harvest festival of the riverlands, except that the Esterlings don’t celebrate with a village-wide meal; the streets are rampant with drinking and song, but the dinner is eaten at home with one’s family. Falls on the seventh month.
Nongri (‘Boorsdag’ or ‘Farmer’s Day’): Every last day of the week, all workers are exempt from work. While this usually isn’t treated as a celebration, it has its groundings in history where it stands as a stab back at the governor for imposing too much power over the artisans of the forge-cities.
The Druïtha are the only ethnic group to not celebrate any Guzu holidays, keeping mostly to themselves with ancient religious celebrations venerating nature and its processes.
Pilgrimage of the Groves: Occurs every year during the fifth to eighth months. Young Druïtha who are to be druids or witches go on a pilgrimage from grove to grove to ask the nature spirits’ blessings. During this time, the areas around the groves are host to markets, religious gatherings, theatre and music.
The Mulberry Festival: This festival falls on the ninth month, right after the pilgrimage. This is the collective spinning and weaving of all the silk collected throughout the year from the mulberry moths. The fabrics are later stored and portioned out for the various tax quarters. The festival it especially a time for druid and witch apprentices to show that they have mastered the art of weaving, and weaving competitions are hosted with huge crowds.
The Reforestation: Falls on the third month. Here the druids and witches gather those willing and go to plant trees in place of dead ones or recently chopped ones. This event often causes heated disputes with the Puzu elf peasants of the southern Heartlands who deforest their lands to make more farmland, only to find that Druïtha come back on their land to plant new ones the following year.
Draconian… Mucklings have lost much of their culture over the past 900 years. What remains is but a shadow of the complex lifestyle they ones lead. However, through all the hardships and toils they’ve had to endure and still endure, there is one festival their masters cannot erase:
Tadpoling: During the sixth month, when the tadpoles hatch, the mucklings throw great feasts where they eat hearty meals and throw the leftovers into the river or lake. Their tadpoles eat the leftovers and grow fat and healthy. What remains of the religious element that once played a huge role is now the local shaman wishing for emancipation and a new home for the mucklings.
Entertainment at court is largely limited to games, performances and competitions within the royal family, like archery competitions, riding tournaments, chariot races and many more. The exceptions to this are the Phoenix Nest and the Dayantai Opera Hall: The Phoenix Nest: Located in Shi, it is an enormous rectangular arena within the courtyard of what was once a massive military complex. There are weekly spars and gladiatorial fights both with and without weapons, and every month there is a huge chariot race, which is considered the height of entertainment among the nobles. There are even provincial teams, and the competitive spirit gets fierce when rival teams race.
Dayantai Opera Hall: A massive theatre and musical complex under the open sky, where theatre troupés and bands come every months to play for the audience of the capital. All players must pass tests set by a board of judges to perform, but those that do have the opportunity to play before the imperial family. The best among them may be lucky enough to be hired as royal performers, work for which the pay is great and fame, greater. Around the realm, entertainment comes in a multitude of forms: Middlings will occasionally travel around the riverlands with circus troupés onboard; Esterling oral tradition comes with a career, where storytellers have high social status as both entertainers and teachers; Druïtha relax with music, dancing and games; Jianger-Kaan and other riverfolk drink, sing, dance, play theatre and party to entertain themselves; mucklings will have swimming and fishing competitions. Furthermore, music is very important in the Gu-Wei empire, being appreciated by every culture that inhabits it. Typical instruments played include flutes and drums, but the Guzu have introduced various others such as the guqin and guzheng, two types of harps; the erhu, which is a two-stringed instrument; gongs and han drums, and more. Song written in any of the languages within the realm may find themselves to be quite popular with even the royal family if allowed to spread. Thanks to opportunities like those at the Dayantai Opera Hall, music can potentially let beggars become nobility.
While the different kinds of cuisine vary quite a lot throughout the land, all the ethnic groups of the empire focus their diets around large amounts of carbohydrates. Western Cuisine (Jianger-Kaan and Western Heartlands): Rice is a staple food of the west, being almost single-handedly responsible for the enormous and steady population growth. The riverfolk see rice as the basis for all other meals, and a typical day starts with a large bowl of rice, often served fried in egg with corn, peas and scallions. The wealthy may also eat steamed wheat buns stuffed with soy sauce fried meats. The most important meal to the riverfolk, however, is lunch at midday. Due to the hot and moist climate, working the fields at this time of day becomes nigh self-torment. Therefore, people instead flock to the cooler inns and taverns for bowls of beef noodle soup, grilled and seasoned river fish or soy-fried eggplant on rice, eaten with a side of water buffalo milk and pineapple or coconut cakes. If there is room for more, the riverlanders usually eat rice until they’re full. For supper, the riverfolk either eat at home or with their neighbours in the village centres. The typical dishes served are based on what the families grow in their fields: eggplant, cabbage, carrots, turnips, scallions, bok choy, soybeans, spinach and more, often seasoned with peppers of varying spiciness. These vegetables are commonly served with broiled or grilled fish. Jianger-Kaan cooking typically uses soybean oil or buffalo tallow to cook their food in large woks. This meal is the primary source of fiber for most riverlanders, where darker greens provide a nutrient-rich and filling alternative to denser grains. All of this is typically served with rice and, if the families can afford it or own water buffaloes or ducks or chickens, steak and eggs. Other important parts of the riverfolk diet include fruits like watermelon, oranges, lychee and goji berries. Due to Elven influence, tea has also become a staple of the diet and is frequently drunk for supper or between meals. The access to soybeans has also lead to the Jianger-Kaan becoming adept tofu-makers, and the local mapo-tofu is known throughout the whole country. Eastern Cuisine (Esterling, Middling and Northern Druïtha): Where rice is the staple of the west, wheat and millet form the basis of all food in the east. Furthermore, they incorporate to a much greater extent various meats and fats to support their hardworking lifestyle, chief among which is pork. Morning routines are similar to those in the west - breakfast consists of pork chops with sides of bread and millet gruel, typically eaten at home. The first vegetables of the day are consumed around lunch, where the workhouses and taverns near workplaces (or the housewife if one is a farmer) typically serve salted pork, fried fish, pork buns or fresh bread with sides of carrots, boiled bok choy, fermented beans or sautéed spinach. Middlings typically switch the salted pork for even more fish, like lake catfish, carp, minnow or other species. Especially the Druïtha, but also Esterlings and Middlings, supplement lunch with various fruits like oranges, peaches and lychee, and roasted cashew nuts. These are typically also snacks throughout the day. Supper is, like breakfast (and possibly lunch), enjoyed at home in the form of salted pork, fried pig’s fat or bacon, supplemented with either bread, wheat noodles or rice from the west. Occasionally, if the family has access to soybeans, tofu will also be made and served in exciting sauces. Northern Cuisine(Huangzu and Puzu): Elven food differs from the rest of the regional specialities in that it has a heavy reliance on various spices and flavourings to achieve greatness. Without the added complexity of spices, Guzu cuisine is largely restricted to rice, meats and vegetables; however, Guzu are expertly familiar with the local spices growing in their area, and make full use of them. These spices are cinnamon, star anise, cloves, fennel seeds and numbing pepper, and together they lift all elven dishes to a much higher culinary level than their peers, save perhaps for the Jianger-Kaan. The Puzu fishermen also produce fish sauce from the lakefish, which provide a much needed umami boost to otherwise uninteresting meats. While the Huangzu and Puzu are radically different in terms of social standing, their diets haven’t diverged too much during their 100-200 years of separation, the larger differences being mainly due to differences in wealth. A day typically starts with a piece of fried fish, a bowl of rice and a bowl of hot soup or light porridge, like millet gruel. The nobility will usually have long, drawn-out breakfasts with tea instead of soup or porridge, which they’ll drink for nearly two hours every day. Puzu farmers may downplay the fish in favour of more carbohydrates in the form of more rice, corn or Esterling bread. Lunch to the Puzu is similar to the riverfolk’s - around midday, most Puzu Elves will head to the nearest tavern or inn (or foodstall, if they work in a city) to have grilled duck, chili-cooked fish, soy-braised beef and more, served with cold noodles in a vinegary soup and bok choy woked in oil. The Huangzu have a similar diet, but the quality is substantially improved upon, and the food is often served with wine brewed from rice, wheat or fruit and supplemented with cakes and sweets. Seeing as they never leave the palace complexes, they never get to experience the outside foodstalls of Shi’s streets. Supper is eaten at home, typically consisting of spicy fish, beef or pork served with a side of rice and chopped lotus cores, if they can afford it. If not, the lotus cores are swapped for bok choy or spinach. After supper, even Puzu elves enjoy a long break with hot tea and, if they can afford it, sweets in the form of pineapple cakes or biscuits. Huangzu will typically towards the end of the day bring out heavier wines if the occasion calls for it (if it doesn’t, some will make an occasion), brewed in great clay pits for a whole year. The product is known as baijiu. Southern Cuisine (Druïtha and Draconian): The Druïtha kitchens are perhaps the dullest, seen from the perspective of the rest of the country. Many Druïtha eat their food raw and unprocessed, and small groups hold on to ancient traditions that forbid them from eating anything they haven’t caught themselves, which makes their eating patterns erratic. The majority, however, have taken to northern cultural influence and cook their food in manners resembling the Guzu and Esterling cuisines. For breakfast, Druïtha typically eat fruit and nuts to start the day. If they have access to it, they may also eat dried meats or drink millet gruel. However, the distance between towns is long in Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama, so inter-village trade is typically erratic and unpredictable. Lunch provides the Druïtha with one of their main protein sources: fried silkworms. Typically served in a bowl by themselves or on rice if available, these provide a much needed protein boost in an otherwise wanting diet. Many choose to drink this with coconut water or a local drink known as éonimhir, which is milk mixed with animal blood, commonly boar or cow, if available. Supper consists of additional fats in the form of nuts and sugars from fruits, nowadays typically fried and tossed with soy sauce, rice and bits of bird or rabbit meat.
Draconians, on the other hand, are carnivores, and eat meat imported from neighbouring provinces or whatever they can catch in the lands bordering the desert.
Education for everyone is among the chief accomplishments of Emperor Yandi. After the Imperial Academy was founded in 759 by Emperor Guxiong as a way of educating Guzu elves to become proper bureaucrats, the only applicants to be accepted were Huangzu. In 768, five years after Emperor Guxiong had been overthrown by Yandi of the Wu dynasty, the Emperor decreed that Puzu and even human nobility would also be allowed to attend, provided they could pay for their own tuition. By 770, all restrictions on race and class were removed and whomsoever had the means could send their sons to attend the academy (women are not allowed to attend still). Students who are enrolled begin their studies at eight years old. There they are given a bed in a twelve-man dormitory, which they will sleep in for the next ten years of their education. Classes begin at dawn and finish at sundown, after which the student will be given assignments, usually in the form of essays, poetry, painting, speechcraft or reading and reciting. In a seven day week, students are given one day off, which better be spent studying if they want to pass the year.
Syllabus:
Year 1-4: The student is taught to read and write guwen. By year two, they are expected to be able to read and write commentaries showing understanding of old poems and essays; by year three, articles and philosophical documents. Guanyan is the oral language used in teaching and the students no longer have dedicated classes to oral guanyan after year three; by that time, they are expected to know it fluently. At the end of year four, each student is given an exam which involves remembering ten passages from a set of essays and articles written by the royal family throughout Guzu history. The list changes every year and the exam form is recitation of the passages to a panel of three teachers. Remembering at least seven out of the ten passages flawlessly by heart is a requirement to pass; however, a passing grade is rarely considered good enough. Year 5-8: After passing the final exam of year four, students are taught imperial history, philosophy, mathematics, natural sciences, astrology, medicine, military theory, literature and politics. They are given access to the Academy library and study halls and encouraged to delve into literature outside of what they focus on in class. During these years, each semester has an exam at the end which tests a subset of everything the students have learned throughout the semester, culminating in a final exam at the end of the eighth year which challenges the student to demonstrate their knowledge of everything in an oral presentation before their teachers in each subject. The students are given the final two months of the final semester to prepare, and each exam may last a period of time based on an hourglass used by the teachers (roughly an hour and a half). In order to pass, the student must adequately present the subjects’ most important lessons with examples and answer any questions posed by the teachers without fault. Any deviations from this may result in a failure. Year 9-10: By this point, the student is considered adept at the key subjects that a statesman is expected to know. During the final two years, students are to begin work on their final thesis which will be presented at the Literature Festival. The student is free to choose his subject from those he’s been taught in the years at the Academy, even being allowed to compose his own work of poetic literature. The most commonly chosen subjects, however, are medicine and history. Philosophy is a subject students commonly start with, until their supervisor berates them for challenging the official imperial doctrine, at which point their careers may be in danger. At the end of the tenth year, the student presents his work to his supervisor and receives feedback and a final evaluation of their school performance as a whole. The evaluation takes into account three criteria: Academic performance, overall conduct and degree of expression of Guzu gentlemanliness, so-called junzi. It should be noted that to fail at any exam, even semester exams, automatically leads to expulsion with no recompensation for already paid tuition that now will be lost. However, tuition is a yearly expense, so to fail in the beginning of the year is a lot worse than to fail at the end. A student is allowed to enroll at the Academy and fail a total of two times, though most who fail the first time never return on account of both the academic and economic pressure. All books and tools used for tuition are to be paid by the student himself or the student’s family. The Academy provides only rice paper to write on. Theft is not uncommon, but punishable by beatings or, if the offense is grave enough, expulsion.
Junzi - the Elven Gentleman:
Junzi is a key term repeated throughout the whole education process. In addition to a formal education, the student is also taught the cultural aspects of the junzi - the ideal gentleman, portraying every quality expected of a man of the Gu-Wei state. Early on, students are taught the importance of diligence in one’s work and to avoid temptations like bullying, cheating and procrastination. However, due to the immense pressure to succeed as well as a thorough culture of competition, the former two are typically ignored unless the culprits are caught. Students are then taught the proper way to dress and address classmates, superiors, royalty, women, children and many more. They are taught to use self-deprecating pronouns about themselves and respectful, uplifting words to address others. Finally, students are taught proper form when greeting, writing, eating, bowing, kowtowing and more. As students grow older and master the basic concepts of a proper student, they are taught to express themselves before crowds, how to develop a sense of charisma and rhetoric, and traditions for bestowing gifts and arranging feasts and buying food and drink. They are taught to distinguish poor wine from good, and what sorts of food are acceptable when hosting other statesmen, superiors, subjects and royalty. They are taught to lead, and a select few exceptional students are given opportunities to lead social or construction-related projects in or around Shi.
Guzu architecture is one which has spread through the realm with great success, being adopted by the majority of ethnic groups throughout the realm. Typical traits for buildings is bilateral symmetry to signify balance and harmony, as well as strict adherence to the four winds: The city of Shi is built like a grid in that all buildings either face the south or the east. While this system fall apart towards the city fringes in the slum areas, the emphasis on city planning has spread to newer cities throughout the whole realm.
Buildings are typically built on slightly raised platforms. The main material used is wood, though larger structures such as temples, palaces, governmental offices and forts are primarily constructed from dark gray clay bricks or stone. The roofs are commonly supported by large wooden beams, and the timber frames used to keep the structure’s integrity connect primarily through joinery and dowelling alone - nails, glue or other adhesives are seldom needed. Walls are typically thin and movable as sliding doors, as the beams carry all the weight of the roof. The roof itself is gaubled with inclines ending in points at the tips. This style of building now dominates new architecture throughout the realm, with two types of housing complexes being the most common.
The courtyard (yuan): A small enclosure typically reserved for one family, containing houses for servants, kitchens, stables (if the family has the means), sleeping quarters, studies, dining hall and more, all surrounding a central courtyard with a paved core surrounded by grass and flowers. The yuan is built facing the south to absorb as much sunlight as possible, while the northern winds blowing in from the Midland Sea are left blowing at the back wall of the house.
The sky well (tianjing): More common in the west and south, where the heat gets intense in the summers. The tianjing is a large, circular (or rectangular) building complex that houses a community of multiple families. The term “sky well” comes from the large open courtyard in the centre of the complex, which allows for ventilation. Furthermore, the roofs cave inwards so rainwater may be collected in a well in the centre of the complex.
The architecture is particularly popular in the west, where is has largely replaced the traditional bamboo huts the riverfolk used to live in. Today, cities like Jiangla, Jianger, Kaan and Dosr-Ung are centres of Guzu city planning and expansion.
In the east, the architecture is prominent, but due to an already strong urban population, many of the cities have failed to adopt Guzu-style city planning, expanding in more natural sprawls. Furthermore, some local Esterling groups regularly express their preference for their people’s traditional stone huts. These share a limited number of traits with the Guzu architecture.
Druïtha architecture has adopted the fewest traits from the Guzu, taking a rather conservative approach to housing in general. Druïtha traditionally live in burrows between the roots of their sacred groves, the deepest of which stretch nearly fifty ten down into the ground, or in small huts fashioned from mud. However, due to increasing influence from their neighbours, more and more Druïtha move closer to Hi-Dûna in Dûna-de-Hama province in hopes that they may live in an actual houses. These typically belong to the younger generations, which are heavily condemned by their elders in Caitir in Druïthim province. Caitir is the largest Druïtha settlement which does not contain a single house. It is a collection of holy groves and home to several thousands who live in burrows or just around in the trees. The temperature makes heating obsolete, so the inhabitants need only protection from the elements, which the trees will occasionally be able to grant by themselves.
The Gu-Weian military is largely reliant on conscription for the majority of their armed forces, the base for which consists of a subset of every ethnic group in the realm except the Druïtha. Roughly 210 000 individuals are professional soldiers and mainly occupy themselves with maintaining the borders or keeping the peace. These professional soldiers are typically trained at a regional military base from the age of fifteen, and most remain soldiers throughout their whole lives. The salary for a Gu-Weian soldier starts at twenty bei a day and increases by ten with every five years of service time, encouraging prolonged stay (up to a limit of 80 bei a day, enough for oneself and one’s family to live quite comfortable in a lesser townhouse or at a large farmstead in the countryside if they spent nothing else for a year). Many soldiers send their money home to their families through the imperial postal service, but a fair number also live as kings by themselves in peace time. The salary for conscripted soldiers is considerably lower, topping out at three bei at the most - this is, however, still more than most businesses can afford to pay their workers. As a whole, the majority of Gu-Weian military funds go to their navy: Guzu warships are typically large and well-staffed with skilled archers and lethal artillery; this does make them extremely expensive, however, and is one of the key reasons as to why they cannot sustain a larger standing army.
The chain of command in the Gu-Wei army is divided into four levels: The head of command, the commanding ground officers, assisting officers and veteran troops. These have different names depending on which section of the military they belong to:
Navy: Admiral - Fleet Commander - Ship Captain - Phoenixes of the Blue Flames. The admiral functions as an overall commander and director of all naval forces, delegating orders to the fleet commander, who acts these out with the subset of ships granted to him. Each ship is commanded by a captain, and each crew ideally has a small squadron of Phoenixes, elite warriors whose experience serves to guide the conscripts in a conflict.
Army and cavalry: General - Commander - Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Red Flame. Both of these sections are led by the same commanders: Generals who lay down battleplans and delegate orders to their commanders. Commanders oversee a section of the army, like the cavalry or the infantry, and have a large number of lieutenants to move smaller companies according to the generals’ plans. Making up the bulk of the elite cavalry, as well as the main sources of experience to pass on to the conscripts, are Phoenixes of the Red Flame.
Artillery: General - Artillery Commander - Archer-Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame. The generals analyse enemy positions and the surrounding terrain - locations of forests, canyons, hilltops and so on - and draft up plans for placement of archers, crossbowmen, catapults and rocket artillery. The artillery commander delegates the troops and equipment accordingly, typically sending archer-lieutenants into forests with a company of archers to ambush the enemy early on before retreating while larger artillery, commanded either by the commanders or by the generals themselves, bombard the enemy giving chase. Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame are the military’s rangers, elites specialising in assassinations, stealth and scouting out terrain and enemy positions.
The key requirement to sit in the chain of command (Phoenixes exempt) is to have completed an education at the Imperial Academy and to have focused one’s final thesis on military theory. To apply for a position at the chain of command, one’s thesis will be read and evaluated. If found satisfactory, the candidate will be given the rank of cadet and put through a three year intensive training program at a selected military institutions that delves deeper into warfare as a subject. The cadet learns of the various different battlefields throughout the realm; he learns to fight to a degree (though this is expected to be trained on one’s own accord); he learns to ride horses, navigate ships and to survive in the wild. At graduation, the cadet is promoted to the assisting officer rank. However, only those of the Huangzu can ever be promoted to the rank of general or admiral. This assures that the command of the military always stays in the hands of the imperial family.
Phoenix is the highest rank a professional soldier can reach without attending the Imperial Academy. It is given to soldiers who have served in the army for at least fifteen years. They are given the highest salary and the military will subsidise their enrollment at the Imperial Academy if they wish. Their rank gives them limited command, up to one company (100 soldiers), and they may take act as mentors for other soldiers to help them become phoenixes. Armourers, weaponsmiths and bowyers all line up to prepare equipment for Phoenixes on account of their deep pockets.
The Navy is the core of the Gu-Weian armed forces, centred around the use of great warjunks manned by archers and armed with heavy artillery like three-stringed ballistae, catapults and rocket artillery, flanked by lesser ships manned by more archers and boarding crews. The warjunks are plated around the edges of the deck and the deck is constantly kept wet during combat to avoid fireworks sparks setting the ship aflame. While the vessels are incredibly dangerous at a distance, the warjunks are very vulnerable up close - especially to fire ships and fire arrows. The lesser ships are therefore tasked with keeping assailants away from the warjunks.
Gu-Weian cavalry is small and underfunded on account of the empire’s terrain. While the bare open areas around Shi allow for cavalry charges and even chariots, the vast majority of the land within Gu-Wei borders is unsuitable for wagons or shock attacks on account of being too densely forested or too soft of ground. Still, a small number of elites make up an elite group of cataphracts, tasked with defending the generals on the field and flanking enemy forces if possible. Cataphracts are heavy cavalry armed with lances and coated in thick armour to withstand even arrow fire. Furthermore, the wetlands dwellers of the west have tried to get around the issue of horses by replacing them with water buffalo, which fare considerably better as wetland mounts. They aren't as fast, of course, but they are faster in their environment than any horse would be. While chariots are being slowly phased out along with the remainder of the cavalry, they are still used in races and to a very limited degree in warfare to carry around officers and wounded.
Gu-Weian infantry contains the fewest professionals of any military section. Being nearly entirely conscripted, the infantry are typically far from skilled, consisting of peasant levies given halberds and very light armour and tasked with keeping the enemy armies away from the artillery. Typical weapons include the ji halberd and spears.
Artillery is to a large extent considered the pride of the military, regardless of its size relative to other sections, as well as the amount of funds spent on it. This is in large part due to the advances in fire and powder-based weaponry. Black powder is made with Esterling charcoal, saltpeter made using bat guano found in the various ancient Druïtha burrows in the Heartlands, and sulfur harvested from salt pits in the southern regions. Artillery has the second fewest number of professionals, the vast majority of soldiers being conscripts given bows and crossbows. Siege weaponry comes in the form of triple crossbows, catapults with various forms of ammunition, and rocket artillery. The triple crossbow packs enough of a punch to pierce fortified stone walls, and the rocket artillery will set alight any city built with thatch roofs. The catapult is typically loaded with balls of hay rolled in pitch and lit aflame.
The Gu-Wei state have a number of heavily fortified positions throughout the land, the majority of which are now staffed at a minimum. There can mainly be found within each regional capital and serve as a base of operation for local peacekeepers and soldiers. Some forts also lie on the borders - there’s one on the northern border with the Zentauri.
The governmental structure of Gu-Wei starts with the Emperor on the top, for he makes any and all ultimate decisions and his word is law. The majority of decisions made throughout the realm, however, are not important enough to reach so far up. At the very bottom are the various tribal chiefs and town mayors, whose role it is to run the villages and towns and make certain the tax collectors’ due is paid. Overseeing the chiefs and mayors is a centralised department of statesmen under the governor. These statesmen typically hold office in a larger city council, reporting all noteworthy details about daily affairs up to to the governor in the provincial capital. The governor, with the counsel of his council, then makes province-wide decisions on work plans, spending, local taxation, placement of peacekeepers and more.
Furthermore, governors function as local judges in court of law in high-level criminal cases, where they judge in accordance with imperial law. However, provincial laws and paragraphs can be added into consideration in certain areas. As an overall goal, stability and harmony in a province is paramount to a governor - instability in one’s region is looked upon as an outbreak of plague that must be contained at all costs. As such, the Emperor stresses that the government maintain a strong, yet not too invasive, presence in all provinces - the people should not live under a pressure that could foment within them thoughts of revolution, but they should know that such thoughts will be met with death.
For these reasons, the governor functions to a large degree as a diplomat between the Gu-Wei state and the myriad of ethnic groups within its borders. Most of the time, this goes without issue, as the peoples of the various regions are well-acquainted with the iron fist of the peacekeepers; however, on occasion, no harmonious solution can be found, at which point the governor will ask the Emperor for further instruction. Up until now, the most common solution has been culling of the uprisers.
It should be noted that while, as mentioned above, any male citizen can potentially become a governor, it is incredibly hard to maintain one’s position as one without heartfelt conversion to the imperial doctrine. The Emperor keeps an office of scholars in every province whose job it is to ensure that the provincial governor himself remains loyal to the throne in Shi. This secret police is particularly active in Druïthim and Ithram, where the people demand that their governor be one of their own.
Due to the Emperor’s largely detached role in government beyond the occasional executive order, the Imperial family largely never leaves the palace of Shi, except to go to the summer palace in Red Clay province. This has continued for nearly a century, and those of the Imperial family not attached to the military (and even a number of those) have no concept of the actual state of the realm beyond their walls.
Gu-Wei religion is first divided in two: The Imperial Doctrine and the Honoured Faiths. The Imperial Doctrine, while primarily being a work to legitimise the rulership of the Huangzu, carries with it heavy religious symbolism that manifests itself as Guism, the worship and honouring of the Muha Empire and past Gu-Wei emperors. The Honoured Faiths are three broad generalisations of the Renzu faiths: Jiangjiao (riverfolk faith), dongjiao (eastern faith) and dujiao (Druïthism). Any other faith beyond these three is considered superstition and is forbidden from being practiced in the open. To control this, the state keeps tight control of all religious gatherings with the help of specialised peacekeepers familiar with local customs and rituals. Any deviations from these outside of the private home results in prison sentences.
In Guism, there are no gods, but ancient kings and heroes that have been venerated to godhood. There are to be given sacrifices in the form of food, commodities or live animals every month, lest they bring misfortune and instability upon the realm. The Month of the Ancestors is the most important time of the year. Since this religion is part of the Imperial Doctrine, all governors and students at the Imperial Academy are required to practice it. This has caused the majority of those in state positions, regardless of ethnicity, to pass on the faith to their family and peers. Today, Guism is the most widespread faith in the Empire, often mixing into local faiths.
While Guism has replaced many of the original deities in the ancient riverfolk faiths, the small collection of different, yet quite similar, sects spread throughout the riverlands keep a certain set of traditions that Guism has yet to wash out.
Veneration of livestock: All farm animals are sacred to the riverfolk, venerated for the food they give in the form of eggs, milk and meat, as well as for feathers, bones and hides. Animals are to be treated as well as people up until the point when they are to be slaughtered, which is done as quickly as possible to let the animal feel the minimum necessary amount of pain. The animal’s skull is then added to the family grave.
Reincarnation: The riverfolk believe that all living creatures have spirits which, upon the owner’s death, will enter a newborn somewhere else in the riverlands and continue its life until a new host must be found.
Along the northern borders of the riverlands, a small minority worships the Zentauri faith. These live in hiding as their faith is illegal under Imperial law.
Here, too, Guism has made a considerable dent in the local faiths. Luckily, the Guist concept of ancestral sacrifice to avoid misfortune coincides well with the native belief that not pleasing one’s family patron god or matron goddess will lead to the downfall of the whole clan. Esterlings, and to a certain degree Middlings, are incredibly proud of their heritage and clan identity is at times more important than wealth and position. This reflects itself in their religion, which almost universally operates by venerating their clan originator, whether that be an ancient mother or father. This person is referred to as a family’s patron god or matron goddess. While the concept used to go much deeper, with various rituals depending on the wishes behind the sacrifices, Guism has watered out many of the old rituals, and the two faiths are functionally the same with different semantics.
The exceptions to this rule can be found deep in the forests of eastern Origo and southern Ithram, where isolation from the outside world has preserved the ancient faiths of Esterling religion to the point where it no longer is considered part of the faith and instead supersition. These esterlings have public alters and arenas were different clans can publicly sacrifice and duel in the names of their patron and matron gods.
Druïthism is likely the most well-preserved faith on the whole among the ethnic religions. It has large geographic variations, but the general gist revolves around preservation of the sacred groves. The sacred groves are centres of communication between the mortal world and the divine beyond, according to the faith, and the whole society is structured around them. The most popular occupation for a Druïtha is that of the priest, which are respectively called druid and witch for man and woman. These are responsible for tending the groves, gathering food from around the forest and meditating on the nature of creation and life. Due to the scarceness of food in the region compared to their neighbours, Druïthism teaches asceticism for all its worshippers, both to keep them from sin (which for many is basically defined as anything their neighbours would do) and overconsumption.
What has created the largest rift between Druïthism and Guism is that Druïthism forbids its believers from seeking divinity from other sources than the sacred groves. This is why Druïtha who go to the Imperial Academy either keep up a convincing act or are forced to give up their faith and be forever shunned by their people.
Beyond these faiths, the Muckling faith is largely lost to time and is today considered superstition by the authorities. The Draconians to the south are given diplomatically-granted exceptions to the superstition rule, but their religions are not accepted anywhere else in the country beyond the regions of Drakka, Shajiang,the Deadlands and parts of Longway.
The Gu-Wei empire is, above all else, an empire built on internal and external trade. Despite the growing incompetence of the Imperial government, the economy of Gu-Wei is running incredibly strong. Being an agricultural powerhouse thanks to the riverlands to the west, Gu-Wei exports rice by the tons to the other countries of the continent, the most important customers being the Tsorodar to the south and the Thalassians to the east. Internally, the economy is fueled by the exchange of Esterling iron for riverfolk rice, most carried on Middling ships and transacted in Elven ports. The exploitation of Shajiang and Deadland salt is entirely nationalised by the state and distributed in exchange for a salt tax to avoid salt deficiency in the more populated areas of the country.
Luxury commodities also make up a sizeable chunk of the Gu-Wei economy, though these are largely traded internally. The most important luxury ware to the Gu-Wei is Druïtha silk, the value of the trade making up as much as a fifth of gross domestic product. It’s not only consumed at home, but also serves as an exception to the rule by being in great demand internationally, too. Demand is kept high by the slow-paced production, as well, so prices for silk remain higher still. The gemstone industries of the south make up a much smaller percentage of GDP, but are considered culturally important to the Guzu, and are thus artificially expensive despite the large deposits.
Being the main source of income for the state, the tax policy demands that every province offer a percentage of their quarterly production to the state’s use. This percentage varies depending on province and produce, with Red Clay paying up to three fifths of its iron produced per quarter on account of the massive scale of production, while Drakka pays measly ten percent of the crops they produce, as the overall yield is very low on account of poor soil. As the tax primarily affects communities rather than the individual, villages either grow closer or split apart; when the tax collector comes, one can either band together to pay or root out those who cannot contribute.
This method of taxation isn’t without its faults, and depending on what product is taxed, the tax collectors can cause local famines, tool shortages or loss of business. On more than one occasion have riverfolk villages starved because their crops are taxed, while Esterling villages’ larders are full as they pay their tax in iron.
Taxes is handled by a small ministry under the provincial governor, and everything they collect is stored in the provincial capital or in storehouses in other centres of commerce if the distance is too great.
As a whole, the government tries not to interfere too much with the regional trade, as the routes that already have been established already provide a most harmonious outcome. However, any ship bringing wares from another province must pay tariffs to the local provincial government before they may bring their wares onto the dock. These tariffs vary depending on the ware, with the grain tariffs being practically non-existent and the tariffs on Elven jewelry being so high that it’s almost improfitable to sell them to anyone but the richest of nobles. This also counts for international trade, with tariffs on Tsorodar minerals being lowered as a show of good faith.
Tsorodar sugarcane is almost like a drug to the Gu-Wei nobles, and is in the highest demand. Honey makes a close second, as the smokey flavours of southern honey is especially popular among the riverland gentry and nobility. Minerals like salt, iron, copper and others are also important. FInally, due to its properties of being thinner and translucent, Tsorodar silk is occasionally bought to be used in speciality products, such as hems, veils and undergarments.
Legend:
Orange dot with black centre: Imperial capital
Orange dot with red centre: Provincial capital
Orange dot without centre: Large settlement with at least 500 000 inhabitants.
On the map, the province names are written as they are referred to by their local populations. However, the Guzu refer to them by their names in guanyan. These are:
Beiguokou (N. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Dosr-Ung. Second most populous province in the country. Drier than the south, but still quite humid. Largely flat.
Nanguokou (S. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Jiangla. Most populous province in the country. Incredibly humid and warm with soil fertility that is replenished every year by floods. Flat.
Longwei (Longway): Provincial capital is Longway. Hot and humid region with the majority of its population being concentrated in the north. Dries out the further south you go. Borders Tsorodar. Hilly towards the south.
Longjia (Drakka): Provincial capital is Tazakk. Dry and hostile environment that supports a small group of Draconians, largely immigrants and escapees from Tsorodar.
Jiangdi (Jianger): Provincial capital is Jianger. Hot region with occasional dry seasons caused by desert winds. A centre for growth of grapes, dates and wheat. Heavily forested in the north.
Guoxin (Heartlands): Provincial capital is Chang’an. Heavily populated in the north with almost no permanent settlements in the south. Largely reliant on the Midland Sea for proteins and fats, but also produces large yields of agriculture and livestock products in the northern half. Very warm with cooling lake winds in the north.
Shiwei (Greater Shi): Provincial capital is Shi. The capital province and home to the largest city in the empire. Has little to no proper food production by itself and is entirely reliant on imports from its surrounding provinces. The fringes of Greater Shi are home to farms akin to those found in the Heartlands, but these don’t come close to producing the amount of food necessary to feed the capital. The majority of the province consists of small towns and villages surrounding the capital proper.
Duyi (Druïthim): Provincial capital is Caitir. The whole province is one great, largely untouched jungle. Simultaneously the richest province on account of the silk trade, and the poorest as almost all of the profits are collected by the provincial governor in Caitir. Incredibly warm and humid.
Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama): Provincial capital is Hi-Dûna. The home province of the only Druïtha trading port, through which almost 99% of all silk produced in the realm flows. A great deal of the previously untouched jungle here has been removed to make way for the steadily expanding provincial capital, as well as other villages which house Esterling immigrant workers.
Dasha (The Deadlands): Provincial capital is Sandcleft. The second least populated province, though an incredibly important one. Home to the largest salt mine in the empire, the Deadlands large serve as a penal province for prisoners and slaves. Rocky and dry, it contains vast gem mines, as well, making it an incredibly rich province despite its purpose.
Shajiang (Shajiang): Provincial capital is Graystone Keep. The least populated province. Shajiang also carries a status as a penal province, but whereas the Deadlands actually attracts a few law-abiding citizens on account of some fertile land in the north, Shajiang is nearly completely without fertile land, relying on food from Origo to sustain itself. Its main exports are salt and gems.
Nandi (Sunnaland): Provincial capital is Norrabi. An agricultural centre in the east, Sunnabi serves as the main source of food for the citizens of Dûna-de-Hama and much of the east. While they don’t have the same fertile soil replenishment as the Riverlands, much of the realm’s food is produced here.
Zhongdi (Midland): Provincial capital is Midta. Most populated province in the east, though in large part because of how the border is drawn. The provincial capital is the second largest trade port after Shi. Temperate and comfortably warm towards the north with much warmer and more humid regions in the sound.
Hongtu (Red Clay): Provincial capital is Amarra. Centre of Esterling industry and home of the largest forge-city, Amarra. The province name comes from the iron-rich soil, which collects and forms rust deposits in the various swamps and bogs. Wet and humid landscape.
Wugu (Origo): Provincial capital is Longon. A province which prosperity is divided near-perfectly down the middle: The west is advanced and well-connected to the rest of the empire; the east is considered backwards and underdeveloped, many living in much the same way as their ancestors did centuries ago. This is due to the nigh sudden appearance of thick forests halfway through the province, and these endless woods now feed a powerful charcoal industry in the province.
Yilan (Ithram): Provincial capital is Estenkampt. Like Origo, Ithram is also considered quite backwards as more than sixty percent of its landmass is covered in nearly impenetrable jungle. The provincial capital sits, however, on the rivers connected to old Muha, so it’s considered a vital part of the empire’s cultural exchange with its roots.
Legend:
Skyblue stripes: Wetlands.
Green stripes: Dense forests.
Blue stripes on the Midland Sea: Fishing grounds.
Red-marked gray triangles: Iron deposit.
Blue-marked gray triangles: Gem deposit.
White-marked gray triangles: Salt pit.
Green dots: Sacred Druïtha grove.
The west is endless fertile wetland: easy to defend, impossible to attack. The heartlands and south-centre are comprised of thick, impenetrable forests that offer little aid to any larger force. This impedes development in the area severely and trade within the region is rare and difficult. Typical crops include rice, wheat, soy, eggplants, cabbage, carrots, corn, peas, scallions, pineapples, coconuts and many more.
The east is a province rich in natural iron deposits littered throughout the multitude of swamps and bogs. The so-called ‘iron sludge’ is a staple of the province. There is also a charcoal industry to feed the fires of the forge-cities. Crops grown include wheat, millet, carrots, soy, bok choy and many more. Additionally, there is a small pipeweed industry in the fringes of the territory, though these aren’t legal under imperial law.
The south and southeast are areas poor in terms of food and water, but rich in jewels, salt and other minerals. To a large extent, these are provinces for slaves, Draconians and other creatures ill-suited for the rest of the empire’s core.
The Midland Sea offers much in terms of trade routes and fish.
There are various monsters throughout the realm, especially deep inside the forests of Ithram, Origo and Druïthim. These have never been recorded by Imperial statesmen, however, and are therefore considered by the Empire’s nobles to be the product of local superstitions.
In terms of regular beasts, the central realm is home to tigers and rhinos, many of which are hunted for their hides and bones. The forests of Druïthim are supposedly home to several herds of jungle elephant, but due to overhunting, these haven’t been seen for years.
The Gloch’ach’ribb: A small group of rebellious Mucklings in the slums of Shi. In secret, these rebels seek to unite their scattered people and carve out a homeland for the Mucklings somewhere by the Midland Sea. They work through hidden gatherings in the unspeakable ghettos through which none of the city guards dare or care to patrol. There, these Mucklings gather whatever weapons, tools, food and materials they can smuggle away from work so they one day can bring about their revolution. The Gloch’ach’ribb is currently unknown to the imperial forces, and the Mucklings very much aim to keep it that way. They are led by the youngest shaman among their kind, Ribbigus Croak, a youth of nineteen who apprenticed under the last true Muckling high priest, Uch’sochoch Frokk.
The Commission on Local Faiths and Customs (the Commission): A secret police dedicated to control the religious beliefs of the empire’s populations. They have known offices in every major city throughout the realm, but the majority of their membres live as undercover spies among the citizens. The organisation is managed and led by Puzu nobles elected by the Emperor, but the spies are human, various individuals who have either been bribed, beaten or blackmailed into service. A third group within the organisation are known as Inquisitors, who upon the discovery of illegal superstition will to the best of their ability see to it that it is never seen again. One final mission the Commission is tasked with is hiding the existence of monsters. They do this not by exterminating them, but by silencing whomsoever spreads word of their existence.
The Alchemists’ Guild: A suborganisation of the Imperial Academy, the Alchemists’ Guild are the minds behind the Gu-Wei weapons development and study of medicine. Made mainly up of Puzu Elves with a small subset of humans, they pursue military and natural research in the cellars of the Imperial Academy. They are not a secret organisation, but a number of their projects require discretion.
The Blue Phoenix Company: The largest shipping and trading company in Midland, responsible for nearly half of all ware transports in the realm. Their company headquarters is located in Midta and their shipping fleet is the largest one belonging to a single company, even outnumbering the old Royal Trading Fleet, simply to the point where the Empire has hired the Blue Phoenix Company on a long-term contract. The head of the company is Lord Unsur Quam (Yunsu Kuan in guanyan), a Middling nobleman with tight connections to the governors of both Shi and Midland and, though it’s not proven, the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
Snaketongue Slavers: The Snaketongue Slavers is a small family of Draconians who have been given permission to oversee the extraction of minerals in the Deadlands and Shajiang provinces, headed by the Bozak Zakkhashar (Sha Kushang in guanyan), a ruthlessly calculating individual with little sense for other things beyond efficiency and profits. While Zakkhashar’s ancestors used to hunt and catch humans, elves, Draconian runaways and kobolds and employ them as slaves, the slavers have a prisoner exchange agreement with the Gu-Wei government, so that all prisoners sentenced to a life in prison will be sent to the penal provinces to work. That way, they receive an almost constant stream of slaves to replace those who die in the heat of the deserts.
Tiger’s Fang Triads: Criminal organisation located in Midta. When Midta became the second largest trading port in the empire, it also grew into an arena within which outcompeting one’s rivals could mean the difference between prosperity and bankruptcy. This is where the Tiger’s Fang comes in - originally a group of thugs hired by firms to disrupt competition, it has since grown into an organised institution in the trade city’s underworld, whose support in vital when pursuing trade deals, profits or even the position as local governor. Today, the Tiger’s Fang runs a multitude of prostitution rings, winehouses, gambling dens and debt collection firms. After the Blue Phoenix Company, theirs is the second largest business presence in the region, making them practically untouchable to the local peacekeepers through bribes, threats and loopholes in local laws. Has a fierce rivalry with the Black Dragon Triads. Led by a council of Middling oligarchs known as the Eight.
Black Dragon Triads: Criminal organisation based in Shi. While not as large as the Tiger’s Fang, the Black Dragon Triads have a number of friends in considerably higher places, rumoured to even have connections to Prince Yanqiang. The Black Dragon Triads started their endeavours as thugs in a past governor’s employ, tasked with silencing rivals and critics. In the governor’s employ, they grew from a simple group of ruffians to a small army with deep ties to pipeweed and wine distribution. When the governor who had employed them eventually grew frightened of them, the triads had him replaced with another. Even while they are right under the nose of the imperial family, the triads’ connection to the prince makes them untouchable. Has a fierce rivalry with the Tiger's Fang Triads. The head of the organisation is a Puzu nicknamed ‘the Immortal’.
Emperor Yandi of the Wu Dynasty: Previously seen as a genius reformer mature for the throne, the last century hasn’t been kind to him. Over the course of the last hundred years, rivalry at court, the loss of his favourite concubine and a growing fascination for lecherous behaviour has led the emperor to shirk his duties as a leader and instead pursue the women of the court. Race: Guzu Elf (Huangzu). Family:
Prince Yanri: Eldest son and heir. An ambitious character with little love for his father. A prodigy in the field of statecraft, the prince does whatever he can in his power to keep the empire from crumbling from his father’s incompetency - at least, enough for the other nobles to see, anyway.
Prince Yanqiang: Youngest son, being born of Yandi’s deceased concubine, Songyan. A general of the imperial army at a very young age, Yanqiang lived his whole life in luxury. For a general, he is incredibly rash and foolhardy, faithfully believing in the supremacy of archaic tactics and frequently ignoring the importance of terrain and elements. He’s addicted to pipeweed and tries to keep it a secret, along with his relationship to his supplier, the Black Dragon Triads.
Queen Liansong: Wife. Daughter of the old emperor Guxiong and is in truth quite hateful towards the current dynasty. She believes her husband to be weak and secretly has an affair with her son, Yanri.
Taomei: Elder sister. A doting character who explicitly wishes for the emperor to take her as his concubine. Currently in charge of the winter palace in Red Clay, from where she writes and sends love letters to her brother.
Princess Wanmei: Eldest daughter. A young, naïve and spoiled girl infatuated with her elder brother Yanri. She frequently aids him in his schemes for the throne.
All Huangzu. At the very least, every Huangzu are cousins. Ever since Guxiong divided the elves into Huangzu and Puzu, no new blood has entered the royal pool.
Wu Liren, governor of Greater Shi: Also the principal of the Imperial Academy. A fantastically wise Puzu scholar with friends in the dark corners of the capital. He owes much of his status today to the Black Dragon Triads and frequently looks the other way whenever they wish to spread a little disorder.
Zhang Mozhang, governor of the Heartlands: A morally just and, some say, incorruptible Puzu statesman, strongly faithful to the emperor and his duties. Diligent in his work and humble in his act, Zhang is an exemplary governor, and the Heartlands prosper as a result.
Dosr im Khammed (Dushu Kang), governor of the Northern Riverlands: An estate farmer whose parents worked their way up from a small patch of land to a grand chateau in the northern riverlands. Charismatic and generous, Khammed is fond of spoiling his friends with gifts and banquets. Hopefully, he doesn’t grow too fond of it.
Bast im Ratinmaar (Ba Ran-ma), governor of the Southern Riverlands: Son of a long lineage of ancient riverland kings, Ratinmaar’s life has been enveloped in luxuries and expectations. Long before he was eligible to apply to the Academy, his family had mentors from Shi come to prepare him for his education. Ratinmaar has been molded into the ideal scholar, and while he serves his people well, there are speculations as to when this overworked statesman will snap under all the stress.
Jianger min Agung (Jiangdi Gong), governor of Jianger: Smart, handsome and charismatic, Agung is both well-liked and well-positioned. A good diplomat and able sailor, though at times overly in love with the flask.
Longway mi Ismaya (Longwei Ma), governor of Longway: A shadier character who’s been in power of Longway for quite a number of years. He keeps his head low to avoid drawing attention to his province and particularly the illegal production of pipeweed in the south.
Dai Borzalik (Bozan Dai), governor of Drakka: A Bozak born and raised on the Gu-Wei side of the border. Strict, earnest and calculating. Has a tense rivalry with Zakkishtahar and the Snaketongue Slavers to the east.
Áed the Pale (Bai Ye), governor of Druïthim: A majorly corrupt Druïthim whose pockets are full of wealth embezzled from the silk industry. The Commission makes certain to keep him well-bribed so they functionally can restrict more and more the cultural diversity of Druïthim.
Zakkishtahar (Zan Shita), governor of the Deadlands: Elder brother of the leader of the Snaketongue Slavers, Zakkhashar. His ties to his brother and the slavers makes him inclined to grant them quite a bit of autonomy, and to a large degree, the organisation owns the whole province.
Wang Ritian, governor of Dûna-de-Hama: An unpopular Puzu governor with little support from his subjects on account of his ethnicity. Wang has made numerous attempts to relate to the local Druïthim, but he struggles immensely.
Bonursan Sunna (Sun Boshan), governor of Midland: A wealthy, well-educated merchant with a tight connections to both the Tiger’s Fang Triads and the Blue Phoenix Company. Due to his powerful friends, he is often forced to appease them over the affairs of the city.
Ramansun Nomir (Numin Ran), governor of Sunnaland: Comes from a family of shipbuilders. Favoured by his subjects for his love of his province, Ramansun has grown somewhat condescending towards his neighbours of late, believing Sunnaland to be the beating heart of the region and the cornerstone of the Imperial Navy.
Pontansun Urmir (Yunmin Po), governor of Origo: Industrialist to the core, Pontasun relishes in the idea to expansion of the charcoal and iron productions.
Sun Zinong, governor of Shajiang: Highly corrupt Puzu elf who hates his station in the south. The only joy he finds in his work is the vast amount of wealth the gem and salt extraction bring into his pockets.
Honursan Yomir (Yongmin Shan), governor of Red Clay: Comes from the largest family of iron smelters in the east. Dedicated to upholding his family name of Yo and thus fiercely protects his own and his family’s honoured through duels and other means.
Ethensen Uramar (Yunman Sen), governor of Ithram: A rebellious character whose many years in office have made him hostile to the the central state.
Ribbigus Croak: The youngest Muckling shaman to ever live. Leader of the Gloch’ach’ribb. A fiery spirit with a fierce hate for everything not Muckling. Having grown up in the slums of Shi, Ribbigus knows well the toils of slavery. Now, he seeks to unite his scattered people and lead an exodus away from the Gu-Wei and into a new land promised by the sages of old.
Sun On-Yee: A low-level thug in the Tiger’s Fang Triads. An orphaned teenager without prospects in life, this street rat of Midta quickly caught the eye of the triads for his fierceness in fighting. Without any other family, On-Yee has been adopted by the triads and now seek to rise up from the bottom to claim his place in the world.
Teppen im Majapar: A veteran of many smaller rebellions, Majapar is one of the Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame, an exceptional archer and ranger. Unfortunately, he is in the employ of Prince Yanqiang, and has frequently been berated for his criticisms of the Prince's tactical failures. He currently holds the unofficial title as "master of the latrines" in Fort Blackhoof by the Zentauri border.
Bilanmar min Gyonja: A chief in a small Jianger-Kaan village called Bilanmar. Distrustful of the Gu-Wei government on account of them not doing anything to solve the constant odd disappearances in his and the nearby villages, no matter how many times they tell the central authorities.
A lake- and riverfaring empire with a long history situated south of the Midland Sea.
The imperial family and the court are mostly comprised of Elves, with a few lower positions being held by humans and, in the southern settlements, draconians. The most populated areas of the empire, the riverlands and lakelands, are home to mainly humans and mucklings.
Gu-Wei is a hereditary empire that claims to trace its heritage all the way back to ancient Muha.
Their proximity to and mastery of the lake and its rivers makes them an able trading empire. The state is dependent on the grain, fish and fabric trade for its income. The currency used is the gu-weian bei, small metal shards with holes in the centre.
The nation speaks a multitude of languages with no standardisation efforts beyond the requirement to speak guanyan, or ‘official speak’, when applying for a position at court. The written word is known as guwen and is largely standardised in the governmental positions. Guanyan is also being used by traders as a lingua franca.
Population: 14 million with a total army size of 210 000 professional soldiers.
Wealth: Rich, but disparities are considerable.
Espionage: Poor.
Elves (Huangzu): A ruling minority of elves claiming to descend for the nobles of Muhakim. They are typically tall and fair of skin, naturally lean and almost enchantingly beautiful. The Huangzu elves hold all upper positions of government, including the position as the royal family. Their numbers are few, however, and what little their supposed heritage knew about magic has long since been watered out of the bloodline. Today, this ruling minority suffers a multitude of issues related to inbreeding and mind-sicknesses. An emperor akin to those from the olden days has not been seen for centuries.
Elves (Puzu): A larger group of peasant and gentry elves that hold smaller areas of land around the capital. Physically, they are quite similar to the Huangzu, with the exception of typically more colour variations of the skin, shorter ears and more rugged features. These are considered noble enough to hold lower positions of government, with the worthiest even being allowed to serve at the royal courts. However, interbreeding between the huangzu and puzu is considered taboo.
Humans (Renzu): The decisively largest single group in the empire, though its internal diversity is much greater than what government reports would have the emperor believe. The renzu is actually comprised of four smaller ethnic groups of humans found throughout the riverlands, lakelands and forests. In their own tongues, there are:
The Jianger-Kaan: Once a loose coalition of river tribes in the western wetlands, the Jianger-Kaan now make up a sizeable portion of the Gu-Wei population. Their homeland, the Guokou riverlands, are among the most fertile areas of the entire empire, and are thus simultaneously the most raided and most well-guarded area of the country. The Jianger-Kaan are themselves varied within, with skin and hair colour ranging from bronze to black, generally hard-worked and stocky builds, and close ties to the local water buffalo. Due to their importance to the empire as a whole, the Jianger-Kaan are well respected even among the elves, and are allowed a great deal of autonomy.
The Middlings: This group of humans are native to the lakelands, and have a presence all around the Midland Sea; however, only a few clans actually swear fealty to the Gu-Weian emperor. They aren’t as numerous as the Jianger-Kaan, but what they lack in numbers, they make up for in tradeskills, particularly in shipscraft and fishnet spinning. They known the lake and its rivers well, and also make up the bulk of the empire’s trading fleet. However, they are often disliked by the nobility for being opportunistic and profiteering, and typically suffer discrimination as a result. The Middlings typically have bronze or golden skin and black hair, and the males often grow long facial hair.
The Druïtha: Native to the thick forests of the central empire, the Druïtha are a simple group of various woodland tribes. Their culture has heavy elements of nature worship and emphasis on an ascetic lifestyle. While they more than often present a barrier for expansionist governors seeking to prospect for natural resources in the many sacred groves, the Druïtha have made themselves invaluable to the empire by sharing their secrets of silk production. While the people themselves are typically superstitious and easily aggravated, their skill in fabrics production has made the empire incredibly rich. Therefore, they are allowed great freedom of religion, movement and rights. The Druïtha are typically pale and rugged in appearance, with scars and tattoos covering their bodies.
The Esterlings: This group of humans are native to the eastern lakelands, riverlands and forests. They are a hardy, strong folk, with mainly bronze and black skin. Most of the males are bald and have large beards, while the females have hair of chestnut or black colours. Culturally, the Esterlings are stubborn and competitive of nature, putting their lives into their trades as blacksmiths, lumberers and farmers. Historically, the Esterlings have manned the economic powerhouse of the empire, the iron sludge forge towns, and are also responsible for some of the largest rebellions throughout history. They have a tense relationship with the elves, and their oral traditions hone their memory for when the elves cross the line next.
Mucklings (Xiongzu, or ôck-li’yoch): The mucklings are a beastfolk native to the Midland Sea. They are short-statured, stocky, frog-like humanoids that dwell on the border between land and water. Due to their ugliness, odd tongue and uncivilised way of life, these are often employed as slaves by the Middlings and lakeland governors. They begin life as tadpoles in the lake and grow throughout a five year period until reaching the humanoid stage, at which point they take on an amphibian lifestyle, hunting on land as well as underwater. Unless enslaves, they typically live in small villages on the lake and river banks and go about their days without much interference. While generally territorial and aggressive, they can rarely compete with the superior weaponry and armour of the imperial army. In the harbour cities, the mucklings often live in terrible slums. Much of their culture has been destroyed in the past centuries, but they have a deep-rooted shamanistic religion that centres around the tribe priest and the cycles of life and death and the tides.
Draconians (Longzu): Found primarily in the south, the diverse draconians make up a small minority in the overall population of the empire. However, due to the proximity of the Tsorodar Empire, draconians are often selected for positions of governorship in the south to keep relations warm, the pool of candidates primarily consisting of Bozak draconians. Draconians enjoy a decent rank among the citizens of the empire, often being employed as soldiers, pit fighters or hunters. As the Gu-Wei empire has no fixed caste system, Da’Covele runaways are sometimes caught on the border. While most of these are sent home to the Tsorodar empire to be executed, a fair number make it past the border unseen to start new lives in the less controlled areas of the empire.
According to the Imperial Doctrine (Year 757)…
A thousand years ago, the Muha emperor’s concubine, Sha-laxas Itha, pregnant with her firstborn son, was sent away, far away, to escape the danger of the rampant hordes of wickedness. Across hills and under branches, her chariot took her, until the horses were coughing blood and running on stumps sanded away by stone and root. So long was the journey, that before their unknown destination was reached, Sha-laxas Itha gave birth, and that which she had born was the son of the dawn and the night, emperor of tide and storm, or tree and beast. When the soldiers who had helped her returned the son to her arms, his very touch sealed shut the wounds he had torn on his way out, and from his first minute, the boy could speak.
So the young emperor spoke: “Bring the chariot to yonder hill; stick so your swords in the grass, o guardsmen, and wait until the sun has set. When dawn again has cast its rays upon this virgin soil of old, the realm my blood shall rule eternal, clearly will be seen.”
The guards obeyed, for none could dispute the miracle before themselves. So they in place of tortured horses shouldered the chariot by its drawbar and shaft, and with the mother and the emperor in the carriage, they brought it to the hill up ahead. At the top, they dug their blades into the soil and went to sleep. That night, they saw visions of a second Muhakim - a greater Muhakim - ruled by imperial blood as divine as had ruled their home for centuries.
When they woke up, at last, their emperor had spoken true - before them laid the rays of heaven, glaring down at the distant plain. There, between the lake and desert, the capital to stand a thousand years would be built.
Written by the predecessor to the current ruling dynasty, the Imperial Doctrine has become a staple of the imperial cult and the heritage of the royal family. However, in spite of its acceptance as historical fact, it overshadows the true founding of the Gu-Wei empire:
The first elves to settle the Xinguo, the empire heartlands between the Midland Sea and the southern deserts, may at some point have had ties to the Muha empire. However, the settlement of the heartlands happened 848 years ago as opposed to a thousand, and was largely limited to a small coalition of elven escapees from the north. Armed and armoured with superior technology, this coalition (known as the Guzu) began conquering and assimilating surrounding elven refugee tribes. Efforts were made early on to establish a centralised government, but due to limited access to food, rampant disease and constant conflict with local human tribes, the Guzu could never keep enough soldiers to maintain larger order. In the end, they were driven from the Xinguo heartlands and forced to trek northwards, where they eventually settled by the Midland Sea. In the year 207 of the second age, the settlement of Shi was founded by the first Guzu emperor, Rizan of the Shi dynasty.
The lakelands suffered few of the same issues as the heartlands, with the foreign tribes being fewer, less aggressive and easier to defend against, and the access to waterways allowing for much greater degree of inwards communication. Rizan was a capable emperor and a dedicated diplomat. He made peace early with the lakefarer tribes and initiated cultural exchange programs to acquire as much knowledge as he could about the land, the lake, the flora and fauna. Through these exchanges, the Guzu learned of the tribes’ foes, allies, disagreements and internal struggles. These slips of the tongue shortly became the graves of a multitude of tribes, as the Guzu pitted them against one another, bribed them, turned on old allies in favour of mightier favorites. The Guzu equipped their closest with bronze tools and weapons and watched them wipe out the smaller rebels who stood against the growing might of the Shi dynasty. By the year 297, the Guzu controlled all of the southern lakebank and a considerable chunk of the heartlands.
With the heartland recaptured and the empire’s strength boosted beyond recognition, Rizan looked away from the forested empire centre for a moment at the distant riverlands to the west. Tales from the human traders told of food in immeasurable abundance, and the last hundred years certainly had tested the larder sizes of the empire. They first moved in with diplomats, trying to learn from the multiple tribes along the great rivers; learn of their motives, their cultures - their enemies. Initial contact was friendly enough - trade agreements were settled and grain, fruit, legumes and vegetables flowed into Shi. However, the trade was lopsided - the royal advisors cautioned that much of the realm’s wealth was being drained in return for much too little crops. At the time, the Guzu had a complex iron industry, using iron sludge from the eastern swamplands. In return for a week’s worth of crops, the river tribes demanded enough iron to amount to two weeks of work. The trade simply wasn’t sustainable.
In 314, Rizan had had enough. The empire was by now in severe debt, and all too dependent on the grain trade, so the emperor rounded up the royal forces and went to war against the river tribes. It would be a conflict which would outlast the emperor himself, for the river tribes were crafty. They knew the wetlands would swallow whatever heavier cavalry the imperial forces employed, and their canoes and rafts much outpaces and outmaneuvered the cumbersome battle fleet of the Shi dynasty. The first few skirmishes brought nothing by losses to the empire: Ships were sunk; warriors, drowned; horses and chariots, forever lost in the swamps. In 361, after 47 years of war, emperor Rizan died of unknown causes. The losses the empire had suffered were immeasurable - some land had been conquered, only to be lost promptly thereafter as the enemy rallied against them. Fortifications built would just sink into the ground and break. Before long, the empire itself fell into turmoil as bordering tribes to the south and east initiated revolts. An opposing political faction arose in court known as the Sons of the Phoenix. They garnered support among the uprising factions as faction members would lead raids against imperial institutions and set free prisoners and slaves. In 366, the Phoenix Rebellion reached Shi and the Shi dynasty capitulated.
The Phoenix Sons’ saying went as such: “Like the bird of flame, our empire shall fall and rise again, more beautiful than ever.” In many ways, that mission succeeded. The first action the new emperor, Laoqun of the Feng dynasty, did was to end the grain trade with the river tribes. While this decision was unpopular at first, the empire’s population had been reduced so immensely that little to no starvation followed. Secondly, the emperor reduced the taxes on iron, salt and fabrics, nearly bankrupting the state a second time in a decade. However, public opinion was high and Laoqun dedicated his rule to building up again the lost trust of the border tribes. The ban on other races than elves at court was lifted, and the royal family was soon counselled by elves, humans and even the occasional muckling. The diversity of the empire prospered as a result, and the proto-tribes of the Middlings and Druïtha could be seen working their crafts in street shops. However, not all bonds would heal so easily, and the river tribes were particularly hateful of the Guzu. Laoqun thus decided to never send elves to negotiate with them, but instead send humans. After all, humans had much more in common with other humans than elves did.
However, the peaceful solution Laoqun had dreamed of did not come to pass. By year 401, the lake tribe coalition that had sworn fealty to the Feng dynasty was at war with the river tribes, and the contract binding the lake tribes to the empire forced the imperial army into the conflict. The royal coffers had barely recovered in the past forty years and Laoqun knew that the empire couldn’t survive another war like the dreaded War of A Man’s Age. The emperor sent out emissaries to all corner of the empire, begging for support. A number honoured their oaths, but the emissaries returned largely empty-handed.
The emperor thus had no choice but to raise the taxes. Initial backlash was merciless, with open rebellion in the eastern regions and the threat of a two-front war on the horizon. However, the Feng dynasty couldn’t afford to break its alliance with the lake people: for one, they kept the coffers full with loyally paid taxes and trade; secondly, they were much too close. In the year 407, as the east drew closer and closer to a loss and the river tribes gave no sign of struggle, the emperor died of a stroke. His successor, Mengshi, unrelated to the emperor by blood and instead chosen on account of his merit, ordered the lake tribes to pull out of the river lands and concentrate fully on containing the eastern rebellions. While initial responses were stubborn and unwilling, the lake tribes eventually left the river lands and sailed east to the Iron Swamps. With the reinforcements in place, the Guzu forces allied with loyal human tribes and the lake peoples turned the tides of war completely, forcing the rebels far away into the eastern forests. The Guzu commanders installed a powerful garrison and made bloody examples of rebel prisoners in the streets and on the borders -- blood eagle torture and flaying were commonly practiced to instill fear in the hearts of the rebels. The Guzu blamed all the horror in the region on the uprisers, and a hatred begun to fester in the people against the opposition. In year 406, enemies of the Feng dynasty were given a bounty of ten bei, enough to feed a family of five for a month. Traitors were rooted out like weeds in the garden, and the witch hunt almost started a second round of turmoil; however, it was much more stable than the region had been before.
With the east under control, Mengshi set his eyes west again. There would be no hope in a frontal assault again. While control of the east provided a much needed source of income for the imperial coffers again, an attack on the river lands would be outright suicidal. So he would wait. The river tribes would never leave their own lands to attack - it was much too easy to defend and nigh impossible to attack from; however, could the emperor give them a reason?
For centuries, he planned and taunted the riverlands, often offering them mockingly beautiful gifts to show how stellar the heartlands had become. By 580, alliances made with the Druïtha and various other human woodland tribes came together to conquer the heartlands in the name of the Feng dynasty, so silk flowed through Shi like water through the riverlands. Emissaries were constantly sent back without their heads, hands, legs or noses, but Mengshi pressed on. Surely enough, by the year 600, various factions in the riverlands begun viewing the empire through different lenses. Trade opened up again, but the emperor’s men were certain to keep the prices under their control. The empire prospered, and slowly, slowly, the imperial traders were feeding the river tribes misinformation, lies and deceit about their allies, turning the tribes against one another. In 611, the chief of the Jianger-Kaan, one of the smaller river tribes, came to the royal court for an audience. They spoke of oppression and betrayal from the Ungur-zun, lords of the headwaters, and wanted their vengeance. If the empire offered their aid, the Jianger-Kaan would smuggle a force across Laojiang, the widest river and the biggest thorn in the side of any attack plan to seize the wetlands. While the imperial warfleet was well known and hated among the river tribes, none would suspect the small galleys of Jianger-Kaan.
This was the opportunity the emperor had waited for. Immediately, he agreed to send over ten thousand troops to lay siege to the Ungur-zun capital of Dosr-ung. The assault happened later that year; the river clans had not a minute to react. The transport across the Laojiang had been swift and efficient, and the soldiers had hidden in the dense woods until the time came to strike. When the war horns sounded, an unprepared city faced ten thousand armoured elves and men. Dosr-ung fell within hours.
With the greatest and most powerful river tribe under imperial control, more and more rose up against their oppressive masters in hopes that they would gain imperial favour. By 613, the riverlands, the bane of emperor Rizan and the Shi dynasty, and a five century old thorn in the side of the Guzu elves, were finally under the control of the Feng dynasty.
A hundred years of prosperity followed: Riverland grain flowed into the capital of Shi and the population grew with unprecedented speed. In fact, population growth was so rapid that the nobles at court began to fear that the empire had become dependent on the western riverlands - too dependent. Various factions rose up at court, all of which came up with their own solutions to the problem. Emperor Mengshi, while popular among the people (or, well, those that knew of him), had grown quite unpopular in court of late, primarily among the elven cliques. The ones united Sons of the Phoenix had split into a multitude of subfactions, which added deeper complexity to the already diverse court. In 715, a grave plague broke out in Shi that spread out across the land, bringing with it an unfathomable death toll. Emperor Mengshi took ill and died within weeks of the outbreak, and in his place rose a faction of the Muha Brotherhood, a faction believing in the supremacy of elvenkind. They quickly surrounded themselves with guards and walls of words, arresting anyone who spoke up against their segregating ways. Other races were banned from court, causing great turmoil in the many factions of the empire. The plague that had ravaged the realm was blamed on the mucklings’ unclean way of life, and a great culling followed, effectively ending muckling society as it had existed for millennia.
In 737, the Druïtha of the Heartlands burst into an outrage as imperial forces sent lumberers to turn Düatha-de-Eamhair, the main grove of the northern circle, into farmland. The outrage was met with violence, which spurred a great rebellion which would come to be known as the Ashen War. Druïtha humans were vicious in their attacks and knew their wooden terrian better than the imperial armies of Guzu elves, Jianger-Kaan sailors and various other human tribes. As brave as the woodland tribes were, however, they could not withstand the fire arrows and pitch-rolled boulders of the imperial forces. The entire grove was reduced to ashes, and the Druïtha subdued through force. By 755, the Muha Brotherhood cast aside the name of the Feng dynasty and instead named their own emperor, Guxiong of the Ge dynasty.
Guxiong began his work immediately, ordering every writer and historian in the capital to draft a census of lineages in the court, and to begin work on what he and the Muha Brotherhood called the Imperial Doctrine. For too long had the Guzu mingled with lesser races on the quest for greatness - it had soiled their sacred heritage and impeded their mission to lay all the world beneath a new Muha empire. As such, the Muha Brotherhood and the emperor’s men wrote volumes upon volumes of history tracing Guxiong’s bloodline back to the last emperor of Muha, and his favorite concubine, Sha-laxas Itha. The court enforced this new doctrine that spoke of a sacred magical heritage from a thousand years past, and a bright future that would, like the phoenix, rise again out of the ashes even stronger than before.
A complete overhaul of the state was also in order: For nearly five hundred years, the state had been primarily built around the capital of Shi, with few to no actual elven settlements beyond. Lesser races had not actually been governed; they had gone about their own ways, occasionally paid taxes and then taken up arms upon the emperor’s command. In terms of control, the previous emperor could point to but a few lose lines on a map and vaguely declare that those were the empire’s borders. However, everyone at court knew that over half the peasants, woodlanders, lakefarers and other tribes they governed only knew of the empire as two to three armoured guards that occasionally stopped by their village demanding grain.
Guxiong and his clique agreed - this would not do.
It began in 758 with the installment of a new rank - governor. The country was divided into sixteen provinces, each to be governed by an elven governor sent from the capital. The governor would enforce imperial law and doctrines on the citizens of the empire, and see to it that not only taxes were paid, but that the citizens also paid an imperial tithe directly to the imperial family. To avoid separatism, each province was also monitored by an envoy of the emperor, and the traditionally tumultuous east was divided into a multitude of provinces to avoid any one province seizing power in the area.
By 760, however, it became abundantly clear quite quickly that the peoples of the empire had quite the opposite opinion on how the country should be run. In the newly dubbed provinces of Duyin (Druïthim) and Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama), the imperial doctrine of an emperor of divine origins strictly counterspoke the Druïtha belief that no living being could ever descend from divinity, and that the only contact the living could establish with the gods was one through harmony and unity with nature. Furthermore, the local governors agreed that the main commodity of value in the province was silk, and it was declared that the local tithes should be paid in silk. However, the harvesting and processing of silk was a sacred ritual to the Druïtha, and to hurry it along in any way was considered wanton blasphemy. Any effort to increase production in time for tithe season was thus met with hostilities and at times open conflict.
The provinces of Guokoubei (Northern Riverlands), Guokounan (Southern Riverlands) and Jiangdi (Jianger) faired little better. The local festivals around sowing season and harvesting season were banned on account of overlapping with the emperor’s birthday and the Month of Ancestors. Immediately, this sparked rampant riots throughout all three provinces. Food exports to the Heartlands were stopped nigh overnight, and chaos erupted soon after in the central regions. In the east, too, tensions grew high as the oral traditions passed down for generations were suppressed in favour of the imperial cult. Even the far south, which had been a largely stable part of the country for centuries, experienced riots as Draconians grew unimpressed by the weak-bodied leadership of puny elves.
As quickly as they could, the governors sent messages to the emperor, urging him to roll back the tithe reforms and the emphasis on the imperial doctrine, but the emperor would not answer them back. No, for as riots ravaged the countryside and the capital grew famished, the emperor and his closest delved into the deepest dungeons of the imperial palace, where they began to call for angels, demons - anything that could save them in their peril. Meanwhile, one of the governors, Yandi of Sunguo (Sunnaland), united the other governors of the east in a rebellion against the Ge dynasty. Yandi had grown sympathetic to the Esterlings’ cause, seeing the tyranny in suppressing centuries of culture all to legitimise a despotic rule. The rebel armies met little resistance on the way, indifferent governors and supportive soldiers allowing them safe passage. They entered the royal palace to see that the emperor and his who clique had committed ritualistic suicide in a vain effort to summon some form of dark magic. Whether they had succeeded is unknown, but what was certain was that a new leader was needed. Yandi took it upon himself to see the systems of his predecessor undone, and was in 763 crowned emperor Yandi of the Wu dynasty.
During his reign, Yandi removed the restrictions on who could serve as governor, but he did not quite open up the court. During his initial days as ruler, he uncovered a dozen unfinished or prototype plans for possible reforms, many of which he confessed were quite revolutionary. Among other things was a population census, far from completed but vaguely drafted. It categorised the many citizens of the empire into actual groups for the first time: There were two kinds of elf, likely to legitimise the number of elves he threw out of the city for disagreeing with the imperial doctrine; the humans were united into one group, perhaps a reason behind their recent rebellion; the mucklings, who had been reduced to meagre vermin stalking the streets of Shi and the banks of the Midland Sea, were included for some reason; and the Draconians of the south. It was a rough draft, but a draft nonetheless.
Further digging into the many proposals made Yandi ponder if the previous emperor truly had been so mad and despotic as he had thought: Many of these reforms would effectivise the state considerably, including a standardised system of writing, a standing army, quarterly taxation instead of monthly… The list went on. Yandi would keep some and scrap some.
By 783, the majority of governors were from the actual province they governed, which solved a number of issues. Yandi declared that the imperial doctrine should no longer be enforced, but instead taught as imperial history to those seeking to enter a position at court. Local customs were legalised once more, and the tumult slowly begun to die down again. Governor power was restricted further, and beyond taxation and military drafts, the central government remained largely invisible to the majority imperial citizens. Anyone seeking a position in government had to learn the standardised script known as guwen; traders and trading guilds who operated with written accounts also had to learn to be allowed into imperial ports. The Greater Shi area developed a local dialect which became the official tongue of the empire, known as guanyan. Finally, the bei was introduced as the standard currency for all to use, phasing out among other things the barter economy of the Druïtha. Standard weights and measurements were also enforced, based on the Middling units used in trade.
A century passed under Yandi’s rule and reforms were passed slowly and allowed the populace time to adjust. Yandi’s royal court had come to be known as the Huangzu, just as Guxiong and his clique had wanted. These elves were of Yandi’s own blood and served in the highest seats of government. The emperor made certain to maintain good relations with them all at all times, and was thorough when it came to emphasising that he was descended from Muha, and that he himself had been chosen to rule out of all of his family by angelic mandate. This idea of the angelic mandate was spread throughout the empire and adapted for local cultures. All would know that to unseat the emperor was to go against the will of the angels and gods. The tax system had filled the state coffers with metal, food and fabrics, all of which were spent on great structures to honour the greatness of the Wu dynasty. Shi was no longer alone in being the only great city in the empire. Other centres of industry, trade and growth popped up around the realm: Jiangla and Jianger in the riverlands, with populations numbering almost a million each; Amarra, jewel of the east, an industrial port city with nearly seven hundred thousand diligent workers keeping the iron forges flaring day and night; Norrabi in the Sunnaland province, uniting the fabrics of the Druïtha groves and jewels and minerals of the southern deserts with the markets of the north. The country was blooming; the phoenix had risen again from the ashes.
At the mark of the 900th year of the 2nd Age, emperor Yandi declared to all that the empire of the Guzu elves, which for so long had existed without a truly defined name beyond the Guzu or whatever name of the dynasty in power had chosen, were to be given a true name. He took the first character of the Guzu name, 古, meaning ancient, and claimed the only character he deemed worthy to describe the empire: 威, wei, the guwen character for might. In guanyan, thusly, the empire was named Gu-Wei, ‘ancient might’.
It would be wrong to classify the Gu-Wei empire’s culture as a singular thing. With the multitude of ethnic groups and cultural criss-crossing between the various races, Gu-Wei is host to a plethora of different customs, ranging from clothing to festivities to languages. Here are some examples:
To a high degree, the whole empire follows a loose set of laws laid out by various emperors since the dawn of the empire. These include the usual passages, such as prohibiting murder, stealing, adultery and various other malicious practices. However, while a standardised system of law has been in the works over the past two centuries, the Elves of Shi cannot seem to rid their realm completely of a number of older laws that stick to their subjects like marrow in the bones.
Riverland Law: The Blood Debt
A remarkable trait among the riverlanders is their blood debt law, which states that any murder entitles the family of the deceased to a life from the killer’s family. This debt can be paid either through servitude, death or property. Due to the severity of the two first options, most choose to pay the family of the deceased the amount equal to the life of their dead relative. These prices are standardised, with the death of an adult male costing a thousand bei; an adult woman, two thousand bei; a child under the age of fifteen summers, five hundred bei; an elder above the age of forty summers regardless of gender, a thousand bei. Occassionally, however, some will choose the path of servitude. In the event that this happens, the killer or someone from the killer’s family is chained to the deceased’s family until death, regardless of whether the family believes the debt has been paid. The family chooses how they wish to treat the servant, and the servant has no right to argue against unfair treatment. Most servants die shortly after enslavement due to overworking.
Druïtha Law: The Sacred Groves
The sacred groves are defined as any forested area that the druids have declared carries seeds of the gods. These groves are respected and cared for like children, for they are the only worldly connections to the gods, without which the world would be doomed. Therefore, harming the groves in anyway is punishable by death. Harming can be as little as peeling bark off of the trees.
Druïtha Law: The Law of Nature’s Speed
Nature takes its time with everything - nothing is ever hastened along, or so the Druïtha say. Unlike their Esterling neighbours to the northeast, the Druïtha shun all manner of mass production or unsustainable resource extraction. Therefore, any effort to ‘hurry nature along’ (that being increasing production at the cost of nature, for example filling the forest with silk worms which then eat all the leaves and shrubberies around), is prohibited and punishable by death.
Esterling Law: Right to Duel
Few qualities are more important to an Esterling than pride - the very act of losing face or causing someone to lose face can ruin a person’s whole career - whole life, even. Thus, whenever an Esterling is insulted gravely, they can invoke the right to duel, at which point the insulter and insultee will both draw swords and fight until one of them falls. This right is culturally accepted and the winner is not charged with murder afterwards regardless of the imperial laws prohibiting such.
Middling Law: Embargo-Free
The Middlings believe in great profits, and centuries of knowing the markets and trade have led them to choose any port whenever, regardless of whether its friendly or mean. Due to their importance to the imperial coffers, the Middlings are effectively allowed to smuggle and trade with the enemy as much as they want, provided they can show the port authorities adequate documents.
Crafting carries many meanings throughout the empire: In the east, crafting refers to the way of life for the citizens of the forge-cities, fashioning rusty sludge into iron tools and weapons; to the Druïtha, craftsmanship is turning silk into fabric and wood into totems and idols; the Jianger-Kaan see craftsmanship in culinary art, spending hours and even days perfecting recipes; the Draconians see craftsmanship in jewelry and even martial arts; the mucklings practice shell art and stone carving to shape idols of worship in their villages and slums. The Elves, both Huangzu and Puzu, practice goldsmithing and jewelcrafting using the resources imported from the south, and the Middlings build great ships for both the trade fleet and warfleet of the empire. Additionally, the Guzu elves of old passed down schematics and trade secrets in medicine, papercraft and construction, which especially the Puzu Elves make good use of in expansion of Gu-Wei culture throughout the realm.
Clothing varies a great deal throughout the empire, with each ethnic group differing slightly depending on local customs and climate. Largely, however, the availability of silk and flax fabrics and the overall warmth of the southern temperate areas, the majority of the populace wears light clothing in the form of tunics, robes and baggy pants.
The Huangzu commonly dress in fine silks with bejeweled embroideries, using materials from all across the realm. The daily clothing follows a strict gender-based code, where males wear black or white robes and females wear red, blue or green. What colour one wears is decided by one’s station and relationship with the emperor. The emperor himself wears only yellow to signify their station. Other colours denote: Male: What the male fashion shares in common is an emphasis on one or two colours for the whole attire: Black with gold, white with blue.
Black: Father/uncle/older brother to the emperor. Has limited power at court, but husbands will make decisions in the emperor’s place if the emperor for some reason is unavailable. Those dressed in black function as advisors to the emperor. As they are figures of importance for the emperor’s growth, the emperor repays them with respect and wealth.
White: Cousins, nephews, sons, young brother: Those that wear white have no power initially unless granted a position, typically in the military or in provincial governance. The white robes are typically referred to as ‘scholardress’ as the emperor’s cousins, nephews, sons and younger brothers are forced to undergo an intense education so they one day can serve their leader as able officers or statesmen.
Female: As opposed to male clothing, female dresses often have multiple different colours and embroideries to complement and contrast the base tint. Furthermore, they often wear short jackets of contrasting colours.
Blue: Emperor’s mother/aunt/older sister: Serves in advisory positions as well as caretakers of the emperor. They oversee management of the royal estates such as the summer and winter palaces, and the central palace grounds in Shi. The blue-clothed are nonetheless very well respected, and traditions dictate that the emperor must see to it that these individuals are married to good men and given wealthy homes.
Red: Cousines, nieces, daughters and younger sisters of the emperor: Much like their male counterparts, this group is put in education to serve the emperor. However, due to the tight familial bonds among the Huangzu, most of the red-clothed are sent into domestic education to serve as the emperor’s future concubines or wives to the emperor’s sons and brothers.
Green: The emperor’s wife and concubines: Compared to the other groups, these enjoy quite a bit of freedom, being closest to the emperor and the bearer of his children (provided they live to not see their father overthrown).
Military Fashion: Another trait common among the males of Huangzu is ceremonial armour in official ceremonies. This armour is heavy and cumbersome, but incredibly beautiful and a strong sign of wealth and might. Due to its expense, however, it’s typically only worn by those closest to the emperor.
Puzu Elves typically hold lower positions in government or at court at the most, and the majority are either peasants, artisans or scholars. Their clothing is not colour-coded as strictly as that of Huangzu, but heavy influences from the central court create certain norms for what to wear. Among the gentry, for example, one is expected to at least own one attire in the style of Huangzu silk for ceremonial and official occasions. Here, the men are expected to wear black or white, and the women red or blue, though the colours are not tied to particular positions. However, outside of Greater Shi and deeper into the Heartlands, the gender divide on colours is less rigid, meaning Puzu governors outside of Greater Shi often wear red robes and consider it a proud cultural trait.
Those who are of lesser means and birth usually wear linen or leather, depending on what’s available. The heat can get intense in the summer, especially further into the Heartlands or in the south in Druïthim. Those who are well off among the peasantry try their best to appear like Huangzu by wearing linen robes fashioned from flax. The richest estate farmers hire master spinners to fashion them such clothing, and some attires are nearly indistinguishable at a glance.
Druïtha live in moist, hot, dense forests, and many go out into the open barely clothed save loincloths to cover the bare necessities. What is typical is that much of what they wear is made from that most comfortable of fabrics, silk. It was said back when the Guzu first made contact with the Druïtha that even their beggars gather the food they earn in sacks of woven silk. The material is in such overflow that its only true value to the Druïtha is religious. Dyeing clothes is a newer concept, however, introduced by the Guzu; it has only been roughly two centuries since the Druïtha began dyeing the clothes they wear. As opposed to the other ethnicities of the empire, the Druïtha are openly against the fashion of the capital, and the governors of Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama often suffer hard glares when official ceremonies force them to don Huangzu clothing.
Esterlings are a simple folk that wear what best complements their work, be it light clothing with thick gloves and boots in the forge-cities, leather and thick cloaks to ward off the autumn and winter elements in the fields, bare-torsoed in the baking sun. The common materials found in Esterling clothing are linen and leather; the richer gentry and nobles will occasionally wear Huangzu silk during official visits or when making visits.
Middlings dress in what they sell, most often, so many of the merchants dress themselves in silk and linen fabrics, often in the form of turbans and robes. The Midland Sea is known to occasionally be quite windy, so baggy, insulating clothing solves both issues of hot and cold. Landbound merchants, especially the rich, gladly dress themselves like Huangzu and Puzu nobility, as to appear even richer.
The Jianger-Kaan typically only wear clothing to protect from the elements, such as the powerful summer sun or the torrential winter rains. Clothing is typically restricted to loincloths in the Southern Riverlands, tunic and skirts growing in popularity to both the north and south. The richest wear leather fashioned from the skin of water buffalo or Huangzu silks, depending on their station. Due to slight distrust of the Elves, however, the majority of riverfolk still carry resentment towards Guzu culture. They also often wear large, shield-like, circular straw hats when working.
The Muckling clothing is often simple, limited to loincloths and vests. Depending on whether they live in villages or slums, their clothing may vary from primal, but whole, to poor and ragged. The mucklings use leather to make armour, though centuries of repression and cultural loss has left much of their more complex culture in ruins.
Gender: Gender differences is viewed differently throughout the empire, but the imperial doctrine is quite specific about the role of women in government - that being that it is nonexistent. According to the imperial doctrine, women serve as masters of the home, not what’s beyond it. Among the Huangzu, this means that women possess quite a lot of authority within the imperial palaces, but are functionally powerless outside of them. Women cannot hold positions of governance or military posts, either. Among the Puzu, the laws stay much the same: Women are largely restricted to the home while men decide matters relating to what’s outside of it. The same culture applies to much of the Jianger-Kaan and the rest of the riverfolk, which coincides neatly with imperial doctrine. In Esterling and Druïtha territory, however, women have traditionally taken a much greater role outside of the home: Forge-cities are manned just as much by women and men, and Druïthan men are forbidden from serving in the military, as they instead must follow the path of druidism. These cultural rifts have caused numerous disputes throughout history, and the Druïtha still do not offer soldiers to the imperial army on account of the male requirement. Hierarchy: Social mobility isn’t impossible in the empire, but it’s strictly controlled. The Huangzu make all imperial decisions, and all the realm’s subjects must (ideally) accept them without question; however, the various governors around the realm and their advisors make more specialised decisions on the local scale. Furthermore, a small minority of advisors at court comprised on non-Huangzu officials may potentially have a small sway in national decisions, but these are few and reliant on connections to spread their influence. Outside of the royal sphere, however, potentially anyone can rise to become a lesser official or even provincial governor. All they require are is an education at the Imperial Academy in Shi and a mentor who will speak for them during elections. This right is universal for elves, humans and draconians. Mucklings are not allowed to apply to the Imperial Academy. Any decision made at the provincial level is absolute and will be enforced through law. For this reason, locals are often encouraged to participate in local politics through dialogue with the provincial government to achieve the most harmonious agreements. In terms of racial hierarchy, the elves regardless of type are above humans, and enjoy certain handicaps in court of law, such as shorter and milder sentences compared to their shorter-lived counterparts. Draconians and humans have equal standing in society, though kobolds that sneak across Gu-Wei borders are treated as lesser and often shunned. Mucklings are at the bottom.
As mentioned, the written word, guwen, is standardised across the whole realm as the only written language accepted in transactions, official and unofficial documents and literature. It’s a logographic script supposedly derived from ancient Muha magical glyphs. It is incredibly difficult to learn and requires a great deal of financial and time investments, which is one of the reasons literacy rates are borderline nonexistent outside of the higher gentry and nobility. However, guwen has been a boon for Esterlings, Middlings and Jianger-Kaan alike, as these civilisations never possessed a written language, or used one that was underdeveloped and insufficient. The Druïtha unofficially use a runic, syllabic script that is officially banned, but secretly allowed for religious reasons. As for spoken languages, the Gu-Wei empire is incredibly diverse in the centre and much more unified in the riverlands. Water unites, so the Jianger-Kaan dialect of xiyu (western talk, or riverfolk speak) is not so different from the Ungur-zun all the way up to the northern border. In the east, the situation is similar: Rivers and the Midland Sea have united most of the east and Midland around very similar tongues, exceptions being the borders between Origo and Ithram, where dense forests and scattered populations have led to the development of some strange languages that are largely unintelligible to the rest of the Esterlings. The southeastern Heartlands and Druïthim, however, have some tongue that even after 500 years of cultural exchange remain largely uninfluenced or unchanged from the isolated languages native to the Druïtha woods. The Druïtha speak in total eight different languages with a much greater number of dialects. The languages spoken in the Dûna-de-Hama province, specifically in the provincial capital Hi-Dûna, have been heavily influenced by Esterspeak due to trade, with the Hi-Dûna dialect even having been changed slightly at a syntactic level. The language spoken in Shi, specifically the one used by the Huangzu and the Puzu, is known as guanyan. This is an old Elven-derived language with tones and limited consonants. To know it fluently is a requirement to graduate from the Imperial Academy in Shi, and is used in all political processes. Among traders it also functions as a lingua franca within the empire. The Muckling tongue commands a wholly different repertoire of sounds than what elven or human mouths can properly replicate. Several words incorporate croaks of different tones and intensity, sounds which are completely necessary to properly convey meaning. Differences between stressed and unstressed croaks may mean the difference between warning someone that the village is in danger and calling one’s conversation partner fat. The grammar lacks tense, instead conveying meaning by laying down a context then explaining one’s point; for example, in order to tell someone else that something else happened yesterday, a muckling would say “yesterday, something happens”. Furthermore, while it’s been severely marginalised over the course of the centuries, there is a higher form of Muckling speech known in history scrolls as croaksong or rrurrt-yk-xechen. Once, this was a special dialect of mucklingspeak with its own grammar and diction, entirely dedicated to oral poetry, song and religious practices. Long strings of various croaks and ribbits would weave together into religious choral music that went on long into the night. These days, only a number of ageing tribe shamans are familiar with the tongue; in town slums, the tongue has been lost for ages.
To the Elves, there are three great celebrations throughout the year: Day of the Dawn, the Emperor’s Birthday and the Literature Festival.
Month of the Ancestors: This is a month-long event during which both Huangzu and Puzu elves mourn those that have passed and pray for advice and blessings for the coming year. During the start of the month, graves are sweeped and washed, and children are expected to make offerings of a tenth of what they earn or reap during that month to their parents. As the month nears its end, great festivals are thrown to praise the festivals and bring great fortune in the coming year. There are musical performances, theatre telling stories of the past, dance numbers and, of course, feasts in abundance. Falls on the first month of every year.
The Emperor’s Birthday: Celebrating this day goes back all the way to the first emperor Rizan, whose birthday was on the seventh day of the tenth moon. The manner of celebration has stayed largely constant, with great markets and games in Shi. Nowadays, great gladiatorial tournaments are arranged in a specialised arena called the Phoenix Nest. While this fighting pit is open all year round, it’s especially active on this day. Emperor Yandi’s birthday is the ninth day of the third month.
The Literature Festival: Largely a local festival in Shi, the Literature Festival is in truth a different name for the Imperial Academy graduation ceremony. The academy grounds is first filled with stalls manned by the soon-to-be graduates presenting their final works of prose or poetry. Then at midday, the top ten students will present summaries of their works for all to hear. Finally, the academy principal announces that the students are worthy graduates and then open markets in the streets selling food and commodities for the families to gift their newly graduated son.
Jianger-Kaan festivities mainly relate to the sowing season and the harvesting season, which due to the riverlands’ fertility happen twice per year. After the emperor allowed for the Month of Ancestors to be celebrated simultaneously with other festivals, the riverfolk have also taken up this custom.
The Sowing Festival: Falls on the second month and the eighth month. A village wide celebration during which the many families come together to preserve what they have left in the form of wine, beer, preserves or other dishes. Animals are also typically slaughtered for this festival both to let the farmers eat themselves fat and strong, and to smoke and dry the meat for the long wait until the harvest.
The Harvest Festival: Falls on the sixth month and the twelfth month. The whole village comes together to reap the fruits of their labour and enjoy it in the form of great feasts of noodles, steamed and baked goods and various stews and soups.
Middlings and Esterlings share common celebrations. Additionally, they both celebrate Month of the Ancestors.
The Harvest Festival (East): Quite similar to the harvest festival of the riverlands, except that the Esterlings don’t celebrate with a village-wide meal; the streets are rampant with drinking and song, but the dinner is eaten at home with one’s family. Falls on the seventh month.
Nongri (‘Boorsdag’ or ‘Farmer’s Day’): Every last day of the week, all workers are exempt from work. While this usually isn’t treated as a celebration, it has its groundings in history where it stands as a stab back at the governor for imposing too much power over the artisans of the forge-cities.
The Druïtha are the only ethnic group to not celebrate any Guzu holidays, keeping mostly to themselves with ancient religious celebrations venerating nature and its processes.
Pilgrimage of the Groves: Occurs every year during the fifth to eighth months. Young Druïtha who are to be druids or witches go on a pilgrimage from grove to grove to ask the nature spirits’ blessings. During this time, the areas around the groves are host to markets, religious gatherings, theatre and music.
The Mulberry Festival: This festival falls on the ninth month, right after the pilgrimage. This is the collective spinning and weaving of all the silk collected throughout the year from the mulberry moths. The fabrics are later stored and portioned out for the various tax quarters. The festival it especially a time for druid and witch apprentices to show that they have mastered the art of weaving, and weaving competitions are hosted with huge crowds.
The Reforestation: Falls on the third month. Here the druids and witches gather those willing and go to plant trees in place of dead ones or recently chopped ones. This event often causes heated disputes with the Puzu elf peasants of the southern Heartlands who deforest their lands to make more farmland, only to find that Druïtha come back on their land to plant new ones the following year.
Draconian… Mucklings have lost much of their culture over the past 900 years. What remains is but a shadow of the complex lifestyle they ones lead. However, through all the hardships and toils they’ve had to endure and still endure, there is one festival their masters cannot erase:
Tadpoling: During the sixth month, when the tadpoles hatch, the mucklings throw great feasts where they eat hearty meals and throw the leftovers into the river or lake. Their tadpoles eat the leftovers and grow fat and healthy. What remains of the religious element that once played a huge role is now the local shaman wishing for emancipation and a new home for the mucklings.
Entertainment at court is largely limited to games, performances and competitions within the royal family, like archery competitions, riding tournaments, chariot races and many more. The exceptions to this are the Phoenix Nest and the Dayantai Opera Hall: The Phoenix Nest: Located in Shi, it is an enormous rectangular arena within the courtyard of what was once a massive military complex. There are weekly spars and gladiatorial fights both with and without weapons, and every month there is a huge chariot race, which is considered the height of entertainment among the nobles. There are even provincial teams, and the competitive spirit gets fierce when rival teams race.
Dayantai Opera Hall: A massive theatre and musical complex under the open sky, where theatre troupés and bands come every months to play for the audience of the capital. All players must pass tests set by a board of judges to perform, but those that do have the opportunity to play before the imperial family. The best among them may be lucky enough to be hired as royal performers, work for which the pay is great and fame, greater. Around the realm, entertainment comes in a multitude of forms: Middlings will occasionally travel around the riverlands with circus troupés onboard; Esterling oral tradition comes with a career, where storytellers have high social status as both entertainers and teachers; Druïtha relax with music, dancing and games; Jianger-Kaan and other riverfolk over drink and party to entertain themselves; mucklings will have swimming and fishing competitions. Furthermore, music is very important in the Gu-Wei empire, being appreciated by every culture that inhabits it. Typical instruments played include flutes and drums, but the Guzu have introduced various others such as the guqin and guzheng, two types of harps; the erhu, which is a two-stringed instrument; gongs and han drums, and more. Song written in any of the languages within the realm may find themselves to be quite popular with even the royal family if allowed to spread. Thanks to opportunities like those at the Dayantai Opera Hall, music can potentially let beggars become nobility.
While the different kinds of cuisine vary quite a lot throughout the land, all the ethnic groups of the empire focus their diets around large amounts of carbohydrates. Western Cuisine (Jianger-Kaan and Western Heartlands): Rice is a staple food of the west, being almost single-handedly responsible for the enormous and steady population growth. The riverfolk see rice as the basis for all other meals, and a typical day starts with a large bowl of rice, often served fried in egg with corn, peas and scallions. The wealthy may also eat steamed wheat buns stuffed with soy sauce fried meats. The most important meal to the riverfolk, however, is lunch at midday. Due to the hot and moist climate, working the fields at this time of day becomes nigh self-torment. Therefore, people instead flock to the cooler inns and taverns for bowls of beef noodle soup, grilled and seasoned river fish or soy-fried eggplant on rice, eaten with a side of water buffalo milk and pineapple or coconut cakes. If there is room for more, the riverlanders usually eat rice until they’re full. For supper, the riverfolk either eat at home or with their neighbours in the village centres. The typical dishes served are based on what the families grow in their fields: eggplant, cabbage, carrots, turnips, scallions, bok choy, soybeans, spinach and more, often seasoned with peppers of varying spiciness. These vegetables are commonly served with broiled or grilled fish. Jianger-Kaan cooking typically uses soybean oil or buffalo tallow to cook their food in large woks. This meal is the primary source of fiber for most riverlanders, where darker greens provide a nutrient-rich and filling alternative to denser grains. All of this is typically served with rice and, if the families can afford it or own water buffaloes or ducks or chickens, steak and eggs. Other important parts of the riverfolk diet include fruits like watermelon, oranges, lychee and goji berries. Due to Elven influence, tea has also become a staple of the diet and is frequently drunk for supper or between meals. The access to soybeans has also lead to the Jianger-Kaan becoming adept tofu-makers, and the local mapo-tofu is known throughout the whole country. Eastern Cuisine (Esterling, Middling and Northern Druïtha): Where rice is the staple of the west, wheat and millet form the basis of all food in the east. Furthermore, they incorporate to a much greater extent various meats and fats to support their hardworking lifestyle, chief among which is pork. Morning routines are similar to those in the west - breakfast consists of pork chops with sides of bread and millet gruel, typically eaten at home. The first vegetables of the day are consumed around lunch, where the workhouses and taverns near workplaces (or the housewife if one is a farmer) typically serve salted pork, fried fish, pork buns or fresh bread with sides of carrots, boiled bok choy, fermented beans or sautéed spinach. Middlings typically switch the salted pork for even more fish, like lake catfish, carp, minnow or other species. Especially the Druïtha, but also Esterlings and Middlings, supplement lunch with various fruits like oranges, peaches and lychee, and roasted cashew nuts. These are typically also snacks throughout the day. Supper is, like breakfast (and possibly lunch), enjoyed at home in the form of salted pork, fried pig’s fat or bacon, supplemented with either bread, wheat noodles or rice from the west. Occasionally, if the family has access to soybeans, tofu will also be made and served in exciting sauces. Northern Cuisine(Huangzu and Puzu): Elven food differs from the rest of the regional specialities in that it has a heavy reliance on various spices and flavourings to achieve greatness. Without the added complexity of spices, Guzu cuisine is largely restricted to rice, meats and vegetables; however, Guzu are expertly familiar with the local spices growing in their area, and make full use of them. These spices are cinnamon, star anise, cloves, fennel seeds and numbing pepper, and together they lift all elven dishes to a much higher culinary level than their peers, save perhaps for the Jianger-Kaan. The Puzu fishermen also produce fish sauce from the lakefish, which provide a much needed umami boost to otherwise uninteresting meats. While the Huangzu and Puzu are radically different in terms of social standing, their diets haven’t diverged too much during their 100-200 years of separation, the larger differences being mainly due to differences in wealth. A day typically starts with a piece of fried fish, a bowl of rice and a bowl of hot soup or light porridge, like millet gruel. The nobility will usually have long, drawn-out breakfasts with tea instead of soup or porridge, which they’ll drink for nearly two hours every day. Puzu farmers may downplay the fish in favour of more carbohydrates in the form of more rice, corn or Esterling bread. Lunch to the Puzu is similar to the riverfolk’s - around midday, most Puzu Elves will head to the nearest tavern or inn (or foodstall, if they work in a city) to have grilled duck, chili-cooked fish, soy-braised beef and more, served with cold noodles in a vinegary soup and bok choy woked in oil. The Huangzu have a similar diet, but the quality is substantially improved upon, and the food is often served with wine brewed from rice, wheat or fruit and supplemented with cakes and sweets. Seeing as they never leave the palace complexes, they never get to experience the outside foodstalls of Shi’s streets. Supper is eaten at home, typically consisting of spicy fish, beef or pork served with a side of rice and chopped lotus cores, if they can afford it. If not, the lotus cores are swapped for bok choy or spinach. After supper, even Puzu elves enjoy a long break with hot tea and, if they can afford it, sweets in the form of pineapple cakes or biscuits. Huangzu will typically towards the end of the day bring out heavier wines if the occasion calls for it (if it doesn’t, some will make an occasion), brewed in great clay pits for a whole year. The product is known as baijiu. Southern Cuisine (Druïtha and Draconian): The Druïtha kitchens are perhaps the dullest, seen from the perspective of the rest of the country. Many Druïtha eat their food raw and unprocessed, and small groups hold on to ancient traditions that forbid them from eating anything they haven’t caught themselves, which makes their eating patterns erratic. The majority, however, have taken to northern cultural influence and cook their food in manners resembling the Guzu and Esterling cuisines. For breakfast, Druïtha typically eat fruit and nuts to start the day. If they have access to it, they may also eat dried meats or drink millet gruel. However, the distance between towns is long in Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama, so inter-village trade is typically erratic and unpredictable. Lunch provides the Druïtha with one of their main protein sources: fried silkworms. Typically served in a bowl by themselves or on rice if available, these provide a much needed protein boost in an otherwise wanting diet. Many choose to drink this with coconut water or a local drink known as éonimhir, which is milk mixed with animal blood, commonly boar or cow, if available. Supper consists of additional fats in the form of nuts and sugars from fruits, nowadays typically fried and tossed with soy sauce, rice and bits of bird or rabbit meat.
Draconians, on the other hand, are carnivores, and eat meat imported from neighbouring provinces or whatever they can catch in the lands bordering the desert.
Education for everyone is among the chief accomplishments of Emperor Yandi. After the Imperial Academy was founded in 759 by Emperor Guxiong as a way of educating Guzu elves to become proper bureaucrats, the only applicants to be accepted were Huangzu. In 768, five years after Emperor Guxiong had been overthrown by Yandi of the Wu dynasty, the Emperor decreed that Puzu and even human nobility would also be allowed to attend, provided they could pay for their own tuition. By 770, all restrictions on race and class were removed and whomsoever had the means could send their sons to attend the academy (women are not allowed to attend still). Students who are enrolled begin their studies at eight years old. There they are given a bed in a twelve-man dormitory, which they will sleep in for the next ten years of their education. Classes begin at dawn and finish at sundown, after which the student will be given assignments, usually in the form of essays, poetry, painting, speechcraft or reading and reciting. In a seven day week, students are given one day off, which better be spent studying if they want to pass the year.
Syllabus:
Year 1-4: The student is taught to read and write guwen. By year two, they are expected to be able to read and write commentaries showing understanding of old poems and essays; by year three, articles and philosophical documents. Guanyan is the oral language used in teaching and the students no longer have dedicated classes to oral guanyan after year three; by that time, they are expected to know it fluently. At the end of year four, each student is given an exam which involves remembering ten passages from a set of essays and articles written by the royal family throughout Guzu history. The list changes every year and the exam form is recitation of the passages to a panel of three teachers. Remembering at least seven out of the ten passages flawlessly by heart is a requirement to pass; however, a passing grade is rarely considered good enough. Year 5-8: After passing the final exam of year four, students are taught imperial history, philosophy, mathematics, natural sciences, astrology, medicine, military theory, literature and politics. They are given access to the Academy library and study halls and encouraged to delve into literature outside of what they focus on in class. During these years, each semester has an exam at the end which tests a subset of everything the students have learned throughout the semester, culminating in a final exam at the end of the eighth year which challenges the student to demonstrate their knowledge of everything in an oral presentation before their teachers in each subject. The students are given the final two months of the final semester to prepare, and each exam may last a period of time based on an hourglass used by the teachers (roughly an hour and a half). In order to pass, the student must adequately present the subjects’ most important lessons with examples and answer any questions posed by the teachers without fault. Any deviations from this may result in a failure. Year 9-10: By this point, the student is considered adept at the key subjects that a statesman is expected to know. During the final two years, students are to begin work on their final thesis which will be presented at the Literature Festival. The student is free to choose his subject from those he’s been taught in the years at the Academy, even being allowed to compose his own work of poetic literature. The most commonly chosen subjects, however, are medicine and history. Philosophy is a subject students commonly start with, until their supervisor berates them for challenging the official imperial doctrine, at which point their careers may be in danger. At the end of the tenth year, the student presents his work to his supervisor and receives feedback and a final evaluation of their school performance as a whole. The evaluation takes into account three criteria: Academic performance, overall conduct and degree of expression of Guzu gentlemanliness, so-called junzi. It should be noted that to fail at any exam, even semester exams, automatically leads to expulsion with no recompensation for already paid tuition that now will be lost. However, tuition is a yearly expense, so to fail in the beginning of the year is a lot worse than to fail at the end. A student is allowed to enroll at the Academy and fail a total of two times, though most who fail the first time never return on account of both the academic and economic pressure. All books and tools used for tuition are to be paid by the student himself or the student’s family. The Academy provides only rice paper to write on. Theft is not uncommon, but punishable by beatings or, if the offense is grave enough, expulsion.
Junzi - the Elven Gentleman:
Junzi is a key term repeated throughout the whole education process. In addition to a formal education, the student is also taught the cultural aspects of the junzi - the ideal gentleman, portraying every quality expected of a man of the Gu-Wei state. Early on, students are taught the importance of diligence in one’s work and to avoid temptations like bullying, cheating and procrastination. However, due to the immense pressure to succeed as well as a thorough culture of competition, the former two are typically ignored unless the culprits are caught. Students are then taught the proper way to dress and address classmates, superiors, royalty, women, children and many more. They are taught to use self-deprecating pronouns about themselves and respectful, uplifting words to address others. Finally, students are taught proper form when greeting, writing, eating, bowing, kowtowing and more. As students grow older and master the basic concepts of a proper student, they are taught to express themselves before crowds, how to develop a sense of charisma and rhetoric, and traditions for bestowing gifts and arranging feasts and buying food and drink. They are taught to distinguish poor wine from good, and what sorts of food are acceptable when hosting other statesmen, superiors, subjects and royalty. They are taught to lead, and a select few exceptional students are given opportunities to lead social or construction-related projects in or around Shi.
Guzu architecture is one which has spread through the realm with great success, being adopted by the majority of ethnic groups throughout the realm. Typical traits for buildings is bilateral symmetry to signify balance and harmony, as well as strict adherence to the four winds: The city of Shi is built like a grid in that all buildings either face the south or the east. While this system fall apart towards the city fringes in the slum areas, the emphasis on city planning has spread to newer cities throughout the whole realm.
Buildings are typically built on slightly raised platforms. The main material used is wood, though larger structures such as temples, palaces, governmental offices and forts are primarily constructed from dark gray clay bricks or stone. The roofs are commonly supported by large wooden beams, and the timber frames used to keep the structure’s integrity connect primarily through joinery and dowelling alone - nails, glue or other adhesives are seldom needed. Walls are typically thin and movable as sliding doors, as the beams carry all the weight of the roof. The roof itself is gaubled with inclines ending in points at the tips. This style of building now dominates new architecture throughout the realm, with two types of housing complexes being the most common.
The courtyard (yuan): A small enclosure typically reserved for one family, containing houses for servants, kitchens, stables (if the family has the means), sleeping quarters, studies, dining hall and more, all surrounding a central courtyard with a paved core surrounded by grass and flowers. The yuan is built facing the south to absorb as much sunlight as possible, while the northern winds blowing in from the Midland Sea are left blowing at the back wall of the house.
The sky well (tianjing): More common in the west and south, where the heat gets intense in the summers. The tianjing is a large, circular (or rectangular) building complex that houses a community of multiple families. The term “sky well” comes from the large open courtyard in the centre of the complex, which allows for ventilation. Furthermore, the roofs cave inwards so rainwater may be collected in a well in the centre of the complex.
The architecture is particularly popular in the west, where is has largely replaced the traditional bamboo huts the riverfolk used to live in. Today, cities like Jiangla, Jianger, Kaan and Dosr-Ung are centres of Guzu city planning and expansion.
In the east, the architecture is prominent, but due to an already strong urban population, many of the cities have failed to adopt Guzu-style city planning, expanding in more natural sprawls. Furthermore, some local Esterling groups regularly express their preference for their people’s traditional stone huts. These share a limited number of traits with the Guzu architecture.
Druïtha architecture has adopted the fewest traits from the Guzu, taking a rather conservative approach to housing in general. Druïtha traditionally live in burrows between the roots of their sacred groves, the deepest of which stretch nearly fifty ten down into the ground, or in small huts fashioned from mud. However, due to increasing influence from their neighbours, more and more Druïtha move closer to Hi-Dûna in Dûna-de-Hama province in hopes that they may live in an actual houses. These typically belong to the younger generations, which are heavily condemned by their elders in Caitir in Druïthim province. Caitir is the largest Druïtha settlement which does not contain a single house. It is a collection of holy groves and home to several thousands who live in burrows or just around in the trees. The temperature makes heating obsolete, so the inhabitants need only protection from the elements, which the trees will occasionally be able to grant by themselves.
The Gu-Weian military is largely reliant on conscription for the majority of their armed forces, the base for which consists of a subset of every ethnic group in the realm except the Druïtha. Roughly 210 000 individuals are professional soldiers and mainly occupy themselves with maintaining the borders or keeping the peace. These professional soldiers are typically trained at a regional military base from the age of fifteen, and most remain soldiers throughout their whole lives. The salary for a Gu-Weian soldier starts at twenty bei a day and increases by ten with every five years of service time, encouraging prolonged stay (up to a limit of 80 bei a day, enough for oneself and one’s family to live quite comfortable in a lesser townhouse or at a large farmstead in the countryside if they spent nothing else for a year). Many soldiers send their money home to their families through the imperial postal service, but a fair number also live as kings by themselves in peace time. The salary for conscripted soldiers is considerably lower, topping out at three bei at the most - this is, however, still more than most businesses can afford to pay their workers. As a whole, the majority of Gu-Weian military funds go to their navy: Guzu warships are typically large and well-staffed with skilled archers and lethal artillery; this does make them extremely expensive, however, and is one of the key reasons as to why they cannot sustain a larger standing army.
The chain of command in the Gu-Wei army is divided into four levels: The head of command, the commanding ground officers, assisting officers and veteran troops. These have different names depending on which section of the military they belong to:
Navy: Admiral - Fleet Commander - Ship Captain - Phoenixes of the Blue Flames. The admiral functions as an overall commander and director of all naval forces, delegating orders to the fleet commander, who acts these out with the subset of ships granted to him. Each ship is commanded by a captain, and each crew ideally has a small squadron of Phoenixes, elite warriors whose experience serves to guide the conscripts in a conflict.
Army and cavalry: General - Commander - Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Red Flame. Both of these sections are led by the same commanders: Generals who lay down battleplans and delegate orders to their commanders. Commanders oversee a section of the army, like the cavalry or the infantry, and have a large number of lieutenants to move smaller companies according to the generals’ plans. Making up the bulk of the elite cavalry, as well as the main sources of experience to pass on to the conscripts, are Phoenixes of the Red Flame.
Artillery: General - Artillery Commander - Archer-Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame. The generals analyse enemy positions and the surrounding terrain - locations of forests, canyons, hilltops and so on - and draft up plans for placement of archers, crossbowmen, catapults and rocket artillery. The artillery commander delegates the troops and equipment accordingly, typically sending archer-lieutenants into forests with a company of archers to ambush the enemy early on before retreating while larger artillery, commanded either by the commanders or by the generals themselves, bombard the enemy giving chase. Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame are the military’s rangers, elites specialising in assassinations, stealth and scouting out terrain and enemy positions.
The key requirement to sit in the chain of command (Phoenixes exempt) is to have completed an education at the Imperial Academy and to have focused one’s final thesis on military theory. To apply for a position at the chain of command, one’s thesis will be read and evaluated. If found satisfactory, the candidate will be given the rank of cadet and put through a three year intensive training program at a selected military institutions that delves deeper into warfare as a subject. The cadet learns of the various different battlefields throughout the realm; he learns to fight to a degree (though this is expected to be trained on one’s own accord); he learns to ride horses, navigate ships and to survive in the wild. At graduation, the cadet is promoted to the assisting officer rank. However, only those of the Huangzu can ever be promoted to the rank of general or admiral. This assures that the command of the military always stays in the hands of the imperial family.
Phoenix is the highest rank a professional soldier can reach without attending the Imperial Academy. It is given to soldiers who have served in the army for at least fifteen years. They are given the highest salary and the military will subsidise their enrollment at the Imperial Academy if they wish. Their rank gives them limited command, up to one company (100 soldiers), and they may take act as mentors for other soldiers to help them become phoenixes. Armourers, weaponsmiths and bowyers all line up to prepare equipment for Phoenixes on account of their deep pockets.
The Navy is the core of the Gu-Weian armed forces, centred around the use of great warjunks manned by archers and armed with heavy artillery like three-stringed ballistae, catapults and rocket artillery, flanked by lesser ships manned by more archers and boarding crews. The warjunks are plated around the edges of the deck and the deck is constantly kept wet during combat to avoid fireworks sparks setting the ship aflame. While the vessels are incredibly dangerous at a distance, the warjunks are very vulnerable up close - especially to fire ships and fire arrows. The lesser ships are therefore tasked with keeping assailants away from the warjunks.
Gu-Weian cavalry is small and underfunded on account of the empire’s terrain. While the bare open areas around Shi allow for cavalry charges and even chariots, the vast majority of the land within Gu-Wei borders is unsuitable for wagons or shock attacks on account of being too densely forested or too soft of ground. Still, a small number of elites make up an elite group of cataphracts, tasked with defending the generals on the field and flanking enemy forces if possible. Cataphracts are heavy cavalry armed with lances and coated in thick armour to withstand even arrow fire. While chariots are being slowly phased out along with the remainder of the cavalry, they are still used in races and to a very limited degree in warfare to carry around officers and wounded.
Gu-Weian infantry contains the fewest professionals of any military section. Being nearly entirely conscripted, the infantry are typically far from skilled, consisting of peasant levies given halberds and very light armour and tasked with keeping the enemy armies away from the artillery. Typical weapons include the ji halberd and spears.
Artillery is to a large extent considered the pride of the military, regardless of its size relative to other sections, as well as the amount of funds spent on it. This is in large part due to the advances in fire and powder-based weaponry. Black powder is made with Esterling charcoal, saltpeter made using bat guano found in the various ancient Druïtha burrows in the Heartlands, and sulfur harvested from salt pits in the southern regions. Artillery has the second fewest number of professionals, the vast majority of soldiers being conscripts given bows and crossbows. Siege weaponry comes in the form of triple crossbows, catapults with various forms of ammunition, and rocket artillery. The triple crossbow packs enough of a punch to pierce fortified stone walls, and the rocket artillery will set alight any city built with thatch roofs. The catapult is typically loaded with balls of hay rolled in pitch and lit aflame.
The Gu-Wei state have a number of heavily fortified positions throughout the land, the majority of which are now staffed at a minimum. There can mainly be found within each regional capital and serve as a base of operation for local peacekeepers and soldiers. Some forts also lie on the borders - there’s one on the northern border with the Zentauri.
The governmental structure of Gu-Wei starts with the Emperor on the top, for he makes any and all ultimate decisions and his word is law. The majority of decisions made throughout the realm, however, are not important enough to reach so far up. At the very bottom are the various tribal chiefs and town mayors, whose role it is to run the villages and towns and make certain the tax collectors’ due is paid. Overseeing the chiefs and mayors is a centralised department of statesmen under the governor. These statesmen typically hold office in a larger city council, reporting all noteworthy details about daily affairs up to to the governor in the provincial capital. The governor, with the counsel of his council, then makes province-wide decisions on work plans, spending, local taxation, placement of peacekeepers and more.
Furthermore, governors function as local judges in court of law in high-level criminal cases, where they judge in accordance with imperial law. However, provincial laws and paragraphs can be added into consideration in certain areas. As an overall goal, stability and harmony in a province is paramount to a governor - instability in one’s region is looked upon as an outbreak of plague that must be contained at all costs. As such, the Emperor stresses that the government maintain a strong, yet not too invasive, presence in all provinces - the people should not live under a pressure that could foment within them thoughts of revolution, but they should know that such thoughts will be met with death.
For these reasons, the governor functions to a large degree as a diplomat between the Gu-Wei state and the myriad of ethnic groups within its borders. Most of the time, this goes without issue, as the peoples of the various regions are well-acquainted with the iron fist of the peacekeepers; however, on occasion, no harmonious solution can be found, at which point the governor will ask the Emperor for further instruction. Up until now, the most common solution has been culling of the uprisers.
It should be noted that while, as mentioned above, any male citizen can potentially become a governor, it is incredibly hard to maintain one’s position as one without heartfelt conversion to the imperial doctrine. The Emperor keeps an office of scholars in every province whose job it is to ensure that the provincial governor himself remains loyal to the throne in Shi. This secret police is particularly active in Druïthim and Ithram, where the people demand that their governor be one of their own.
Due to the Emperor’s largely detached role in government beyond the occasional executive order, the Imperial family largely never leaves the palace of Shi, except to go to the summer palace in Red Clay province. This has continued for nearly a century, and those of the Imperial family not attached to the military (and even a number of those) have no concept of the actual state of the realm beyond their walls.
Gu-Wei religion is first divided in two: The Imperial Doctrine and the Honoured Faiths. The Imperial Doctrine, while primarily being a work to legitimise the rulership of the Huangzu, carries with it heavy religious symbolism that manifests itself as Guism, the worship and honouring of the Muha Empire and past Gu-Wei emperors. The Honoured Faiths are three broad generalisations of the Renzu faiths: Jiangjiao (riverfolk faith), dongjiao (eastern faith) and dujiao (Druïthism). Any other faith beyond these three is considered superstition and is forbidden from being practiced in the open. To control this, the state keeps tight control of all religious gatherings with the help of specialised peacekeepers familiar with local customs and rituals. Any deviations from these outside of the private home results in prison sentences.
In Guism, there are no gods, but ancient kings and heroes that have been venerated to godhood. There are to be given sacrifices in the form of food, commodities or live animals every month, lest they bring misfortune and instability upon the realm. The Month of the Ancestors is the most important time of the year. Since this religion is part of the Imperial Doctrine, all governors and students at the Imperial Academy are required to practice it. This has caused the majority of those in state positions, regardless of ethnicity, to pass on the faith to their family and peers. Today, Guism is the most widespread faith in the Empire, often mixing into local faiths.
While Guism has replaced many of the original deities in the ancient riverfolk faiths, the small collection of different, yet quite similar, sects spread throughout the riverlands keep a certain set of traditions that Guism has yet to wash out.
Veneration of livestock: All farm animals are sacred to the riverfolk, venerated for the food they give in the form of eggs, milk and meat, as well as for feathers, bones and hides. Animals are to be treated as well as people up until the point when they are to be slaughtered, which is done as quickly as possible to let the animal feel the minimum necessary amount of pain. The animal’s skull is then added to the family grave.
Reincarnation: The riverfolk believe that all living creatures have spirits which, upon the owner’s death, will enter a newborn somewhere else in the riverlands and continue its life until a new host must be found.
Along the northern borders of the riverlands, a small minority worships the Zentauri faith. These live in hiding as their faith is illegal under Imperial law.
Here, too, Guism has made a considerable dent in the local faiths. Luckily, the Guist concept of ancestral sacrifice to avoid misfortune coincides well with the native belief that not pleasing one’s family patron god or matron goddess will lead to the downfall of the whole clan. Esterlings, and to a certain degree Middlings, are incredibly proud of their heritage and clan identity is at times more important than wealth and position. This reflects itself in their religion, which almost universally operates by venerating their clan originator, whether that be an ancient mother or father. This person is referred to as a family’s patron god or matron goddess. While the concept used to go much deeper, with various rituals depending on the wishes behind the sacrifices, Guism has watered out many of the old rituals, and the two faiths are functionally the same with different semantics.
The exceptions to this rule can be found deep in the forests of eastern Origo and southern Ithram, where isolation from the outside world has preserved the ancient faiths of Esterling religion to the point where it no longer is considered part of the faith and instead supersition. These esterlings have public alters and arenas were different clans can publicly sacrifice and duel in the names of their patron and matron gods.
Druïthism is likely the most well-preserved faith on the whole among the ethnic religions. It has large geographic variations, but the general gist revolves around preservation of the sacred groves. The sacred groves are centres of communication between the mortal world and the divine beyond, according to the faith, and the whole society is structured around them. The most popular occupation for a Druïtha is that of the priest, which are respectively called druid and witch for man and woman. These are responsible for tending the groves, gathering food from around the forest and meditating on the nature of creation and life. Due to the scarceness of food in the region compared to their neighbours, Druïthism teaches asceticism for all its worshippers, both to keep them from sin (which for many is basically defined as anything their neighbours would do) and overconsumption.
What has created the largest rift between Druïthism and Guism is that Druïthism forbids its believers from seeking divinity from other sources than the sacred groves. This is why Druïtha who go to the Imperial Academy either keep up a convincing act or are forced to give up their faith and be forever shunned by their people.
Beyond these faiths, the Muckling faith is largely lost to time and is today considered superstition by the authorities. The Draconians to the south are given diplomatically-granted exceptions to the superstition rule, but their religions are not accepted anywhere else in the country beyond the regions of Drakka, Shajiang,the Deadlands and parts of Longway.
The Gu-Wei empire is, above all else, an empire built on internal and external trade. Despite the growing incompetence of the Imperial government, the economy of Gu-Wei is running incredibly strong. Being an agricultural powerhouse thanks to the riverlands to the west, Gu-Wei exports rice by the tons to the other countries of the continent, the most important customers being the Tsorodar to the south and the Thalassians to the east. Internally, the economy is fueled by the exchange of Esterling iron for riverfolk rice, most carried on Middling ships and transacted in Elven ports. The exploitation of Shajiang and Deadland salt is entirely nationalised by the state and distributed in exchange for a salt tax to avoid salt deficiency in the more populated areas of the country.
Luxury commodities also make up a sizeable chunk of the Gu-Wei economy, though these are largely traded internally. The most important luxury ware to the Gu-Wei is Druïtha silk, the value of the trade making up as much as a fifth of gross domestic product. It’s not only consumed at home, but also serves as an exception to the rule by being in great demand internationally, too. Demand is kept high by the slow-paced production, as well, so prices for silk remain higher still. The gemstone industries of the south make up a much smaller percentage of GDP, but are considered culturally important to the Guzu, and are thus artificially expensive despite the large deposits.
Being the main source of income for the state, the tax policy demands that every province offer a percentage of their quarterly production to the state’s use. This percentage varies depending on province and produce, with Red Clay paying up to three fifths of its iron produced per quarter on account of the massive scale of production, while Drakka pays measly ten percent of the crops they produce, as the overall yield is very low on account of poor soil. As the tax primarily affects communities rather than the individual, villages either grow closer or split apart; when the tax collector comes, one can either band together to pay or root out those who cannot contribute.
This method of taxation isn’t without its faults, and depending on what product is taxed, the tax collectors can cause local famines, tool shortages or loss of business. On more than one occasion have riverfolk villages starved because their crops are taxed, while Esterling villages’ larders are full as they pay their tax in iron.
Taxes is handled by a small ministry under the provincial governor, and everything they collect is stored in the provincial capital or in storehouses in other centres of commerce if the distance is too great.
As a whole, the government tries not to interfere too much with the regional trade, as the routes that already have been established already provide a most harmonious outcome. However, any ship bringing wares from another province must pay tariffs to the local provincial government before they may bring their wares onto the dock. These tariffs vary depending on the ware, with the grain tariffs being practically non-existent and the tariffs on Elven jewelry being so high that it’s almost improfitable to sell them to anyone but the richest of nobles. This also counts for international trade, with tariffs on Tsorodar minerals being lowered as a show of good faith.
Tsorodar sugarcane is almost like a drug to the Gu-Wei nobles, and is in the highest demand. Honey makes a close second, as the smokey flavours of southern honey is especially popular among the riverland gentry and nobility. Minerals like salt, iron, copper and others are also important. FInally, due to its properties of being thinner and translucent, Tsorodar silk is occasionally bought to be used in speciality products, such as hems, veils and undergarments.
Legend:
Orange dot with black centre: Imperial capital
Orange dot with red centre: Provincial capital
Orange dot without centre: Large settlement with at least 500 000 inhabitants.
On the map, the province names are written as they are referred to by their local populations. However, the Guzu refer to them by their names in guanyan. These are:
Beiguokou (N. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Dosr-Ung. Second most populous province in the country. Drier than the south, but still quite humid. Largely flat.
Nanguokou (S. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Jiangla. Most populous province in the country. Incredibly humid and warm with soil fertility that is replenished every year by floods. Flat.
Longwei (Longway): Provincial capital is Longway. Hot and humid region with the majority of its population being concentrated in the north. Dries out the further south you go. Borders Tsorodar. Hilly towards the south.
Longjia (Drakka): Provincial capital is Tazakk. Dry and hostile environment that supports a small group of Draconians, largely immigrants and escapees from Tsorodar.
Jiangdi (Jianger): Provincial capital is Jianger. Hot region with occasional dry seasons caused by desert winds. A centre for growth of grapes, dates and wheat. Heavily forested in the north.
Guoxin (Heartlands): Provincial capital is Chang’an. Heavily populated in the north with almost no permanent settlements in the south. Largely reliant on the Midland Sea for proteins and fats, but also produces large yields of agriculture and livestock products in the northern half. Very warm with cooling lake winds in the north.
Shiwei (Greater Shi): Provincial capital is Shi. The capital province and home to the largest city in the empire. Has little to no proper food production by itself and is entirely reliant on imports from its surrounding provinces. The fringes of Greater Shi are home to farms akin to those found in the Heartlands, but these don’t come close to producing the amount of food necessary to feed the capital. The majority of the province consists of small towns and villages surrounding the capital proper.
Duyi (Druïthim): Provincial capital is Caitir. The whole province is one great, largely untouched jungle. Simultaneously the richest province on account of the silk trade, and the poorest as almost all of the profits are collected by the provincial governor in Caitir. Incredibly warm and humid.
Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama): Provincial capital is Hi-Dûna. The home province of the only Druïtha trading port, through which almost 99% of all silk produced in the realm flows. A great deal of the previously untouched jungle here has been removed to make way for the steadily expanding provincial capital, as well as other villages which house Esterling immigrant workers.
Dasha (The Deadlands): Provincial capital is Sandcleft. The second least populated province, though an incredibly important one. Home to the largest salt mine in the empire, the Deadlands large serve as a penal province for prisoners and slaves. Rocky and dry, it contains vast gem mines, as well, making it an incredibly rich province despite its purpose.
Shajiang (Shajiang): Provincial capital is Graystone Keep. The least populated province. Shajiang also carries a status as a penal province, but whereas the Deadlands actually attracts a few law-abiding citizens on account of some fertile land in the north, Shajiang is nearly completely without fertile land, relying on food from Origo to sustain itself. Its main exports are salt and gems.
Nandi (Sunnaland): Provincial capital is Norrabi. An agricultural centre in the east, Sunnabi serves as the main source of food for the citizens of Dûna-de-Hama and much of the east. While they don’t have the same fertile soil replenishment as the Riverlands, much of the realm’s food is produced here.
Zhongdi (Midland): Provincial capital is Midta. Most populated province in the east, though in large part because of how the border is drawn. The provincial capital is the second largest trade port after Shi. Temperate and comfortably warm towards the north with much warmer and more humid regions in the sound.
Hongtu (Red Clay): Provincial capital is Amarra. Centre of Esterling industry and home of the largest forge-city, Amarra. The province name comes from the iron-rich soil, which collects and forms rust deposits in the various swamps and bogs. Wet and humid landscape.
Wugu (Origo): Provincial capital is Longon. A province which prosperity is divided near-perfectly down the middle: The west is advanced and well-connected to the rest of the empire; the east is considered backwards and underdeveloped, many living in much the same way as their ancestors did centuries ago. This is due to the nigh sudden appearance of thick forests halfway through the province, and these endless woods now feed a powerful charcoal industry in the province.
Yilan (Ithram): Provincial capital is Estenkampt. Like Origo, Ithram is also considered quite backwards as more than sixty percent of its landmass is covered in nearly impenetrable jungle. The provincial capital sits, however, on the rivers connected to old Muha, so it’s considered a vital part of the empire’s cultural exchange with its roots.
Legend:
Skyblue stripes: Wetlands.
Green stripes: Dense forests.
Blue stripes on the Midland Sea: Fishing grounds.
Red-marked gray triangles: Iron deposit.
Blue-marked gray triangles: Gem deposit.
White-marked gray triangles: Salt pit.
Green dots: Sacred Druïtha grove.
The west is endless fertile wetland: easy to defend, impossible to attack. The heartlands and south-centre are comprised of thick, impenetrable forests that offer little aid to any larger force. This impedes development in the area severely and trade within the region is rare and difficult. Typical crops include rice, wheat, soy, eggplants, cabbage, carrots, corn, peas, scallions, pineapples, coconuts and many more.
The east is a province rich in natural iron deposits littered throughout the multitude of swamps and bogs. The so-called ‘iron sludge’ is a staple of the province. There is also a charcoal industry to feed the fires of the forge-cities. Crops grown include wheat, millet, carrots, soy, bok choy and many more. Additionally, there is a small pipeweed industry in the fringes of the territory, though these aren’t legal under imperial law.
The south and southeast are areas poor in terms of food and water, but rich in jewels, salt and other minerals. To a large extent, these are provinces for slaves, Draconians and other creatures ill-suited for the rest of the empire’s core.
The Midland Sea offers much in terms of trade routes and fish.
There are various monsters throughout the realm, especially deep inside the forests of Ithram, Origo and Druïthim. These have never been recorded by Imperial statesmen, however, and are therefore considered by the Empire’s nobles to be the product of local superstitions.
In terms of regular beasts, the central realm is home to tigers and rhinos, many of which are hunted for their hides and bones. The forests of Druïthim are supposedly home to several herds of jungle elephant, but due to overhunting, these haven’t been seen for years.
The Gloch’ach’ribb: A small group of rebellious Mucklings in the slums of Shi. In secret, these rebels seek to unite their scattered people and carve out a homeland for the Mucklings somewhere by the Midland Sea. They work through hidden gatherings in the unspeakable ghettos through which none of the city guards dare or care to patrol. There, these Mucklings gather whatever weapons, tools, food and materials they can smuggle away from work so they one day can bring about their revolution. The Gloch’ach’ribb is currently unknown to the imperial forces, and the Mucklings very much aim to keep it that way. They are led by the youngest shaman among their kind, Ribbigus Croak, a youth of nineteen who apprenticed under the last true Muckling high priest, Uch’sochoch Frokk.
The Commission on Local Faiths and Customs (the Commission): A secret police dedicated to control the religious beliefs of the empire’s populations. They have known offices in every major city throughout the realm, but the majority of their membres live as undercover spies among the citizens. The organisation is managed and led by Puzu nobles elected by the Emperor, but the spies are human, various individuals who have either been bribed, beaten or blackmailed into service. A third group within the organisation are known as Inquisitors, who upon the discovery of illegal superstition will to the best of their ability see to it that it is never seen again. One final mission the Commission is tasked with is hiding the existence of monsters. They do this not by exterminating them, but by silencing whomsoever spreads word of their existence.
The Alchemists’ Guild: A suborganisation of the Imperial Academy, the Alchemists’ Guild are the minds behind the Gu-Wei weapons development and study of medicine. Made mainly up of Puzu Elves with a small subset of humans, they pursue military and natural research in the cellars of the Imperial Academy. They are not a secret organisation, but a number of their projects require discretion.
The Blue Phoenix Company: The largest shipping and trading company in Midland, responsible for nearly half of all ware transports in the realm. Their company headquarters is located in Midta and their shipping fleet is the largest one belonging to a single company, even outnumbering the old Royal Trading Fleet, simply to the point where the Empire has hired the Blue Phoenix Company on a long-term contract. The head of the company is Lord Unsur Quam (Yunsu Kuan in guanyan), a Middling nobleman with tight connections to the governors of both Shi and Midland and, though it’s not proven, the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
Snaketongue Slavers: The Snaketongue Slavers is a small family of Draconians who have been given permission to oversee the extraction of minerals in the Deadlands and Shajiang provinces, headed by the Bozak Zakkhashar (Sha Kushang in guanyan), a ruthlessly calculating individual with little sense for other things beyond efficiency and profits. While Zakkhashar’s ancestors used to hunt and catch humans, elves, Draconian runaways and kobolds and employ them as slaves, the slavers have a prisoner exchange agreement with the Gu-Wei government, so that all prisoners sentenced to a life in prison will be sent to the penal provinces to work. That way, they receive an almost constant stream of slaves to replace those who die in the heat of the deserts.
Tiger’s Fang Triads: Criminal organisation located in Midta. When Midta became the second largest trading port in the empire, it also grew into an arena within which outcompeting one’s rivals could mean the difference between prosperity and bankruptcy. This is where the Tiger’s Fang comes in - originally a group of thugs hired by firms to disrupt competition, it has since grown into an organised institution in the trade city’s underworld, whose support in vital when pursuing trade deals, profits or even the position as local governor. Today, the Tiger’s Fang runs a multitude of prostitution rings, winehouses, gambling dens and debt collection firms. After the Blue Phoenix Company, theirs is the second largest business presence in the region, making them practically untouchable to the local peacekeepers through bribes, threats and loopholes in local laws. Has a fierce rivalry with the Black Dragon Triads. Led by a council of Middling oligarchs known as the Eight.
Black Dragon Triads: Criminal organisation based in Shi. While not as large as the Tiger’s Fang, the Black Dragon Triads have a number of friends in considerably higher places, rumoured to even have connections to Prince Yanqiang. The Black Dragon Triads started their endeavours as thugs in a past governor’s employ, tasked with silencing rivals and critics. In the governor’s employ, they grew from a simple group of ruffians to a small army with deep ties to pipeweed and wine distribution. When the governor who had employed them eventually grew frightened of them, the triads had him replaced with another. Even while they are right under the nose of the imperial family, the triads’ connection to the prince makes them untouchable. Has a fierce rivalry with the Tiger's Fang Triads. The head of the organisation is a Puzu nicknamed ‘the Immortal’.
Emperor Yandi of the Wu Dynasty: Previously seen as a genius reformer mature for the throne, the last century hasn’t been kind to him. Over the course of the last hundred years, rivalry at court, the loss of his favourite concubine and a growing fascination for lecherous behaviour has led the emperor to shirk his duties as a leader and instead pursue the women of the court. Race: Guzu Elf (Huangzu). Family:
Prince Yanri: Eldest son and heir. An ambitious character with little love for his father. A prodigy in the field of statecraft, the prince does whatever he can in his power to keep the empire from crumbling from his father’s incompetency - at least, enough for the other nobles to see, anyway.
Prince Yanqiang: Youngest son, being born of Yandi’s deceased concubine, Songyan. A general of the imperial army at a very young age, Yanqiang lived his whole life in luxury. For a general, he is incredibly rash and foolhardy, faithfully believing in the supremacy of archaic tactics and frequently ignoring the importance of terrain and elements. He’s addicted to pipeweed and tries to keep it a secret, along with his relationship to his supplier, the Black Dragon Triads.
Queen Liansong: Wife. Daughter of the old emperor Guxiong and is in truth quite hateful towards the current dynasty. She believes her husband to be weak and secretly has an affair with her son, Yanri.
Taomei: Elder sister. A doting character who explicitly wishes for the emperor to take her as his concubine. Currently in charge of the winter palace in Red Clay, from where she writes and sends love letters to her brother.
Princess Wanmei: Eldest daughter. A young, naïve and spoiled girl infatuated with her elder brother Yanri. She frequently aids him in his schemes for the throne.
All Huangzu. At the very least, every Huangzu are cousins. Ever since Guxiong divided the elves into Huangzu and Puzu, no new blood has entered the royal pool.
Wu Liren, governor of Greater Shi: Also the principal of the Imperial Academy. A fantastically wise Puzu scholar with friends in the dark corners of the capital. He owes much of his status today to the Black Dragon Triads and frequently looks the other way whenever they wish to spread a little disorder.
Zhang Mozhang, governor of the Heartlands: A morally just and, some say, incorruptible Puzu statesman, strongly faithful to the emperor and his duties. Diligent in his work and humble in his act, Zhang is an exemplary governor, and the Heartlands prosper as a result.
Dosr im Khammed (Dushu Kang), governor of the Northern Riverlands: An estate farmer whose parents worked their way up from a small patch of land to a grand chateau in the northern riverlands. Charismatic and generous, Khammed is fond of spoiling his friends with gifts and banquets. Hopefully, he doesn’t grow too fond of it.
Bast im Ratinmaar (Ba Ran-ma), governor of the Southern Riverlands: Son of a long lineage of ancient riverland kings, Ratinmaar’s life has been enveloped in luxuries and expectations. Long before he was eligible to apply to the Academy, his family had mentors from Shi come to prepare him for his education. Ratinmaar has been molded into the ideal scholar, and while he serves his people well, there are speculations as to when this overworked statesman will snap under all the stress.
Jianger min Agung (Jiangdi Gong), governor of Jianger: Smart, handsome and charismatic, Agung is both well-liked and well-positioned. A good diplomat and able sailor, though at times overly in love with the flask.
Longway mi Ismaya (Longwei Ma), governor of Longway: A shadier character who’s been in power of Longway for quite a number of years. He keeps his head low to avoid drawing attention to his province and particularly the illegal production of pipeweed in the south.
Dai Borzalik (Bozan Dai), governor of Drakka: A Bozak born and raised on the Gu-Wei side of the border. Strict, earnest and calculating. Has a tense rivalry with Zakkishtahar and the Snaketongue Slavers to the east.
Áed the Pale (Bai Ye), governor of Druïthim: A majorly corrupt Druïthim whose pockets are full of wealth embezzled from the silk industry. The Commission makes certain to keep him well-bribed so they functionally can restrict more and more the cultural diversity of Druïthim.
Zakkishtahar (Zan Shita), governor of the Deadlands: Elder brother of the leader of the Snaketongue Slavers, Zakkhashar. His ties to his brother and the slavers makes him inclined to grant them quite a bit of autonomy, and to a large degree, the organisation owns the whole province.
Wang Ritian, governor of Dûna-de-Hama: An unpopular Puzu governor with little support from his subjects on account of his ethnicity. Wang has made numerous attempts to relate to the local Druïthim, but he struggles immensely.
Bonursan Sunna (Sun Boshan), governor of Midland: A wealthy, well-educated merchant with a tight connections to both the Tiger’s Fang Triads and the Blue Phoenix Company. Due to his powerful friends, he is often forced to appease them over the affairs of the city.
Ramansun Nomir (Numin Ran), governor of Sunnaland: Comes from a family of shipbuilders.
Pontansun Urmir (Yunmin Po), governor of Origo: Industrialist to the core, Pontasun relishes in the idea to expansion of the charcoal and iron productions.
Sun Zinong, governor of Shajiang: Highly corrupt Puzu elf who hates his station in the south. The only joy he finds in his work is the vast amount of wealth the gem and salt extraction bring into his pockets.
Honursan Yomir (Yongmin Shan), governor of Red Clay: Comes from the largest family of iron smelters in the east. Dedicated to upholding his family name of Honur and thus fiercely protects his own and his family’s honoured through duels and other means.
Ethensen Uramar (Yunman Sen), governor of Ithram: A rebellious character whose many years in office have made him hostile to the the central state.
Ribbigus Croak: The youngest Muckling shaman to ever live. Leader of the Gloch’ach’ribb.
Sun On-Yee: A low-level thug in the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
While a certain demigoddess converses with the lord...
The afternoon was possibly the hardest time to work. The principal’s study truly did match the ideals of heshui architecture; however, with Chuanwang’s current positioning, Zhong Wang’s eyes were being seared shut by a particularly nasty ray stabbing at him with all its dying strength as Heliopolis set for another sleep under the horizon. It had been like this for hours -- the only other spot in his office with as comfortable a position as this one had to be the tea table, but he couldn’t very well spill ink on the tea table scribbling notes onto bark strips, could he? With a pair of black-spotted fingers, the principal rubbed some exhaustion out of his eyes.
Knock, knock, sounded the door.
“Come in,” the master answered.
The door swung open slowly to reveal Nergui carrying a tray topped with a steaming bowl, a steaming cup and a bark strip scroll.
“Ah, is it that time already?” Wang asked and pulled his brush through a cloth rag. “What is it today?”
“Wen Bei’s beef noodle soup, sir, as well as the analysis you asked for regarding the flora of these islands.” She gently nudged some piles of tomes and scrolls out of the way to set the tray down in their stead.
“Oh, that quickly? The doctor and her apprentice are certainly swift on the delivery…” Wang took the down off the tray along with a pair of chopsticks. “... Will you be attending the concert tonight, by the way?”
Nergui nodded. “I was considering it, sir. From what you and young Taishan have told me, these ‘Nebulites’ seem like an interesting group, to say the least.” There came a short pause. “Are you?”
“Afraid I will be missing the spectacle, at least. There are a number of passages in this particular volume that require a deeper perspective. I would like to finish as much as I can by tonight.”
“Understandable, sir. Then I hope you wouldn’t mind if I excuse myself for the evening.”
“Oh, please, don’t let me keep you. They are certain to start any minute, are they not?”
Nergui pursed her lips. “Actually, master, they plan to begin at twilight, so about an hour remains.”
“I see, I see.” There was another pause. Wang took the steaming cup from the tray and took a long whiff of its greenish contents. He gave Nergui an expectant look. “Would that be all, Nergui?”
Nergui seemed to snap back into reality with a few blinks. She turned to Wang and nodded dutifully. “Yes, sir.”
Wang furrowed his brows curiously. “Very good, then. I’ll… Let you know if I have any-- Oh, no, wait, you’re going to the festival, right.”
“Right, sir.”
“Right.”
With the atmosphere of the room growing uncomfortably heavy, Nergui bowed slightly and turned to the door. She pulled it open halfway before turning her head and saying, “Actually, there was…”
Wang looked up from his soup bowl. “Yes?”
Nergui opened her mouth hesitantly. Eventually, she shook her head again. “No, nevermind. Have a good dinner, sir.” She closed the door behind her and left only echoing steps down the stone hallway. Wang frowned in concern. Nergui was rarely like this: Usually, she was of a much more confident character, with a keen sense of duty and dedication. He hadn’t seen her like this often. A few pensive chews coloured his face a curious hue as he unfurled the scroll from the physicians across his desk. He had never been much satisfied with doctor Zhou’s handwriting -- Shengshese was already bewildering enough on its own. His keen eyes were, however, well-acquainted with the River God’s calligraphic script, so much of what was written could be discerned from the context.
“... I see,” he mumbled to himself, “... So this new ‘sundrop nectar’ might have a soothing effect on sore throats. That should be treasured, then.” His eyes scanned further down the page. “What kind of name is ‘bellyburn root’? What does it-- oh… Oh, dear.” He slurped another pinchful of noodles. “... That poor lad. She better not be making him try all these.”
Another round of knocking struck the door quite gently. Wang barely looked up from the scroll as he shouted, “Come in.”
“Master Wang, if I may,” came the deep bass of Batbayaar’s voice. Wang looked up in surprise.
“Master Batbayaar? I was certain you would be at the concert. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes, sir,” the warrior poet replied and closed the door behind him. “It’s regarding the armament project.”
“The clay weapons? Has there been any progress?”
Batbayaar furrowed his brow. “It’s slow, sir -- slower than the spin of Tendlepog. However, Yum-Yum helped us make a discovery this morning.”
“Yum-Yum? Your son’s cloudling?”
“The very same, sir. It caused a bit of an accident in the workshop this morning, but in the process it led us to an important discovery…” The warrior laid a vague, gray shape on the desk, part of which broke apart brittly. Wang pulled his noodle bowl to himself. The shape appeared knife-like, but like one that had been made of wood, then been put into a burning stove and extracted as an ashen piece of charcoal.
“Batbayaar, with all due respect--”
“Master Wang, did we ever consider pressure as a solution?”
Wang frowned. “Pressure? In what sense?”
Batbayaar picked the ‘knife’ up again and turned it around in his hands. It flaked off some more, so his moves were smooth and careful. “We’ve previously tried to make the weaponry like we make pots: We’ve mixed together a batch of clay using all manner of metallic sands, wet earths and river mud; we’ve shapen it into blades and spearheads; then we’ve fired them in the kilns. However…” He unsheathed a prototype from a sheathe on his belt. It shone with a transparent glaze, save for the twin edges which had been roughly sharpened. “... These may be tough, but they respond poorly to sharpening, and most break when we test them with whetstones.”
Wang intertwined his fingers and rested his nose ontop of them. “So… This pressure you spoke of -- what are you suggesting?”
“Yum-Yum achieved something we’ve never observed before, master Wang. He tipped over a number of boxes from the top shelves just as he removed the moulding tools from this particular type. They hammered against it with great force of a short time, but…” He offered the flaky shape to Wang. “... This is the result of an instantaneous, single effort, and it has held its shape all the way here from the workshop.”
“Yes, and it’s falling apart, master Batbayaar,” Wang replied with a straight-mouthed frown.
“After such short exposure, it’s a miracle it ever held together. Keep in mind, sir, that this is sand that would normally have existed as a powder. Granted, there is a certain amount of moisture in this particular type, but with the right amount of pressure, I believe we can make greater strides.”
“And, if your opinion, master Batbayaar, where will we find a pressure adequate enough? I doubt we could hammer it with boxes all day and night.”
“If we could find a sufficiently hard surface to serve as the anvil, we could use Chuanwang as the hammer, sir,” Batbayaar replied with a half-smile.
“The Millennium Tortoise… As a hammer?”
“A press would be more accurate, when considering its purpose; however, know that this is but a piece of the puzzle, master Wang,” the warrior poet cautioned. “The ideal ratios of sands and clays must still be found out, as well as the firing process - or whether there need be a firing process at all. All will be revealed in time, though -- I am certain of it.”
Wang smiled. “I haven’t seen you this overjoyed about something since the arrival of the cloudlings.”
Batbayaar crossed his arms over his broad chest and thundered a chagataian laughter. “Moksha has advised me to step away for a moment from the gardens of the palace and meditate instead on the various arts we practice within the Academy. Besides, general Ming has almost become a match for me. I must prepare myself for the day my apprentice supersedes me.”
“Will you go from martial artist to claymaker, then?” the principal asked with a wry smile.
Batbayaar tugged at the goatee about his chin. Another chuckle escaped him and he began scooping clay flakes off Wang’s desk and into his hand, depositing them from there into a basket full of scrapped bark strips. “I doubt I will see such a dire change of heart in the near future -- however, a richer choice of trades in the future to complement my writing brush will only give me more muses to draw from.”
Wang chuckled to himself. “It’s a joy to see such determination from you, master Batbayaar. Every apprentice we take in with the years are overjoyed that you remained here instead of choosing the spear.”
Batbayaar’s smile faded a little and he turned to the door. “Oh, I am hardly through with my military career, sir. I will see to it that each soldier educated at the royal barracks will fight with the spirit of our Elder Mothers, and even then my task will be far from done.” He pushed open the door. “Will you be coming to the concert, by the way?”
“Oh, no, I will remain here to analyse some additional passages. Wish the musicians luck from me, would you?”
“Thank you, sir,” Batbayaar replied with a grin. “I will tell the rest of us.” He then stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
Wang snickered to himself and turned the ‘dagger’ around in his hands carefully. “... Pressure, huh.” He felt some droplets of joy evaporate out of his spirit and he looked out the window opening at the Heliopolis rays which were no longer there. A very distant chorus of instruments being tuned could be heard beyond the idle chatter and noises of the city below. The principal pursed his lips before laying the knife back on the desk, slurping some more noodles and returning to his studies.
Wang’s doing some studying. Nergui comes in with food. They chat a bit awkwardly for a few moments. Nergui mentions the concert and Wang’s not going. Nergui leaves. A bit later, Batbayaar comes in with news about clay weaponry. They’ve made a small breakthrough by singling out high pressure as a key factor in making the blades hard. Batbayaar suggests making them with the help of Chuanwang’s huge weight, which Wang entertains the idea of. They close off with some praise of Bat’s dedication to both school and the army, at which Bat vows to see the dreamer military get stronk.
“I’ve made my decision, ye gits,” Rog-mohog said proudly. For once, Torog and Gork stopped bickering and turned to the chief expectantly. Gork flashed Torog a smug smile and whispered, “I bet he’s gunna see it my way.”
“None’a you are tellin’ the troof, so I’m takin’ the pig ‘n the cow,” the chief declared. Both the others’ jaws dropped to the ground.
Gork raised his hand in protest. “Wot?! That wasn’t even an option, chief, ‘n--!”
“It wos, ye git. I’m the chief!”
“Buh-but…” Torog was at a loss. “Nuh, this ain’t roight. My sow was snatched roight unjustly, she wos. I demand recompun… Recompo… Recompusishun.”
“Recompensation?”
“Thassit.”
“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it. That’s wot you get for lyin’ to your boss,” Rog-mohog declared and began tugging the cow along by the horn and the dead pig by the leg.
“B-buh… I didn’t lie!”
“Neither did I!” Gork added.
Rog-mohog groaned. “See, now one of yous is lyin’! Let this be a lesson for ye - lyin’ to the chief is never good.”
Gork and Torog stood dumbstruck as Rog-mohog walked off with his prizes. The chieftain heard them begin to argue again when he had gotten some distance away. To think, not only had he gotten himself some lunch, but he’d also fetched himself a cow ripe for breeding. He’d have to bring it over to Lop’s ranch later so he could get it bred. For now, though, he’d bring it to his own hut.
The chief pulled his new property up the hill to his tent at the ankle of Big Rock. He gave his throne by the edge of the cliff a proud look and started lighting himself a fire. However, before he could get a spark going, he heard footsteps behind him. The unmistakable stench and mouthbreathing told him that it could only be one ogre on the planet:
His wife, Porky.
“Wot you eatin’, luv?” came a happy voice.
Rog-mohog frowned. “Pork, as usual.”
Porky plopped her behind on the grass and stared curiously at her husband making the fire. Her eyes flickered between the wood and her increasingly surly man.
“Wot you want?” Rog-mohog eventually muttered. Porky clapped her hands excitedly.
“Oh, you asked!”
“Wish I hadn’t.”
“Nuh, nuh, you gunna like this.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Porky produced a fistful of grasses and herbs. Rog-mohog looked unimpressed.
“You picked some weeds. Good girl.”
Porky frowned. “Nooooo! Smell them!” She shoved them in Rog-mohog’s face, nearly causing him to light the dry grass on fire. He tried to push her away, but Porky was strong - very strong. A few reluctant whiffs later, Rog-mohog actually found the smell to be alright - almost pleasant.
“Wot issat?”
“Herbs, luv. Found ‘em by the stream round the Rock.”
“Wait, wait… Stream round the--... Oh, croikey! I was supposed to get stuff for the readin’!”
“The spirit readin’? That’s tomorrow, innit?”
“How do ye remember such things?” Rog-mohog looked at his wife in disbelief. Porky grinned and poked her temple.
“‘S cuz I’m real smart.” She wasn’t, really - not even for an ogre. However, in this short moment, Rog-mohog found himself agreeing just a little. He eyed the herbs in her hand again. “Wot were these herbs for anyway?”
Porky blinked. “Oh, roight!” She reached into the sow’s open belly, grabbed the intestines and pulled some out. With well-placed bites, she cut out a section, blew the contents out and sat squeezing out the rests. Rog-mohog looked on in disgust and morbid curiosity.
“Wot you doin’, lady? We use the guts for rope, not eatin’!”
“It makes for weak rope,” Porky replied, “But this, this was somethin’ Wololo made up in a dream.”
“Was he smokin’ too much again?”
“Y’know how it is, luv,” she said with a degree of pity. “Anyway, see, wot y’do is… Hang on, gotta chew somma this… (smacksmack) Mmm… Thash real good, MM! Now somma theshe herbsh... Roigh, now y’jush… Spi’ i’ roigh’ in ‘n… (ptew!) … ‘N there! A sosig!”
Rog-mohog stared uncertainly and with some concern at the length of intestine, tied shut on one end and open on the other, into which had been deposited a mouthful of half-chewed herbs and pork meat, and which now looked like a stuffed sock.
“Wot issat?”
“A sosig!”
“Wot’s a sosig?”
“Pork meat in pork guts! See now, see now.” She held it over the fire for a while until the outside was charred and crisp. Then she handed it to her husband, who gave it a sniff. After a skeptical moment, he took a bite. The sosig tasted better than unseasoned pork, but only marginally. The herbs were interesting, but it couldn’t really compare with a thick slab of bacon. Still, it would be a nice way of using up those scraps nobody wanted.
“How is it?” Porky asked. Rog-mohog swallowed and hummed.
“Is a’roight. Wololo came up with this, y’say?”
“He says all kinds’a rubbish. Last week, he was sayin’ we’ll ‘ave self-walkin’ cows, but these ‘ave wheels and we can ride ‘em. He calls ‘em ‘cars’.”
Rog-mohog shook his head. “He needs to smoke less of that burnin’ bush.” He took another moment to ponder before clapping his hands together. “Roight! Proppa lunch time. Uh, Porky! Don’t mind if you make more sosiges, but I’ve got a job for you!”
“Oh!” Porky perked up. “Wot kind, wot kind?!”
“I need you to find me a dog’s toof, an owl feavvah, fresh moss and a dead ogre foot.”
Porky’s expression lessed in enthusiasm. “You mean do your job for ya?”
Rog-mohog shook his head. “No, no, see - I’ve found a boar bone plate.” He patted the boar carcass next to him. “Practically dun half the job myself.”
Porky took a moment to think about this. “Huh… S’pose you ‘ave. Fine! I’ll be right back, then! Love ya!”
“Oh, uh. Same, I guess,” Rog-mohog responded absent-mindedly as he flipped the porkchop he held in his hand to get a nice char on the other side.
Torog ‘n Gork - The Foightenin’ C) Rog takes both the cow and the sow like a boss.
Uffairz ov Stayte: X) Rog-mohog sends his wife Porky to get the rest of the materials after he himself acquires a boar bone plate. A+D) Sosiges are added to the ogre food pantry, starting a revolution in culinary culture! X) The spirit reading’s preparations are made… Tune in for the results next turn!
The Garden drifted lazily across the night sky. As usual, Mengcheng was rampant with baby wails and groaning parents; this had become routine, however. Most could sleep through meteor strikes by this point. Chuanwang gave a yawn that shook the waves below and bubbled along calmly. The gentle tremors rocking through the city sparked the occasional giggle or lulled the children to sleep. In some houses, it caused more to wake up in tears. In spite of all the noise that coursed through the city like a breeze, Wen De sat in deep concentration in the light of Moksha. He droned a bassy, melancholic mantra, glistening tracks of tears evident on his cheeks. A troubled breath escaped him and his eyes forced themselves open. He looked at Moksha; it stared knowingly back. Wen De lowered his head and swallowed. He drew the breath back in and resumed his mantra.
A distance away, Zhong Ming walked along the city wall near Chuanwang’s head. She held her strung bow in her right hand, her full quiver ready at her hip. The sea made her uneasy - even after all these years. She trusted Chuanwang with all her heart; she did not trust the ocean.
The colossal turtle suddenly gave a quiet, surprised drone. Ming looked down at the head. “What is it, great turtle?” she asked and unfurled the rope ladder which let her descend down to the head. From a leather satchel, she extracted the Babblefish, which greeted her with a, “Howdy, gen’ral. What’re you needin’ from lil’ ol’ me?” Ming place the fish down on Chuanwang’s head, holding her hand on the fish as well.
“Babble, what’s Chuanwang mumbling about?”
The fish hummed. “‘Parently, there’s a landmass on ahead. Chuanny here’s sayin’ he needs a rest.”
Ming made a face. “Is it new?”
The wooden fish shrugged in spirit. “He’s never seen it ‘fore, at least. How ‘bout y’all check it out, huh?”
“... I suppose the Academy would want to prospect the land at the very least.” She patted the turtle’s colossal head and picked up the fish.
“Hey, gen’ral.”
“Hmm?”
“‘Parently, just as you lifted me, Chuanny smelled somethin’ iffy.”
“Hey, it wasn’t me!”
“No, no, somethin’ else. Put me back down.”
Ming did as told and the Babble Fish kept listening to the turtle’s quiet droning. It occasionally let out the odd, “mhm… mhm… yup, yup… ooo, is that right… mhm…” Ming frowned impatiently.
“A’right, he’s sayin’ it smells civilised - as in, they’ve got stationary sewage.”
“Gross, Babble!”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, darl’. Anyway, they ain’t far. Just a couple hundred yards past the beach.”
Ming nodded with pursed lips. “Alright. We’ll head in in the morning. Tell Chuanwang he can rest.”
“Roger that, darlin’.” Chuanwang seemed to breathe out in relief before its one crystal blue eye closed, removing its bright reflection from the water surface. Ming satcheled the fish again and stared into the dark land barely lit by the Garden. From the moisture and scent of life she could tell that it was tropical, similar to the Foot. However, Chuanwang’s assessment hadn’t been wrong - the air here felt different. She supposed the answers would come the next day.
The usual expedition force had gathered by the Industrial Square gate. Zhong Wang had brought along Wen Taishan as an expert on botany to complement his own knowledge on the matter; Zhong Ming and two guards by the names Ekbataar and Timur, both of the Chagatai clan; and finally, Zhong Rong, a prospector. Wang went over a list of inventory, which Taishan had to confirm was complete. Ming had the gatekeepers open the great, creaking doors and the party proceeded as soon as the inventory was accounted for. They soon found themselves on a long stretch of white sand, the dry beach air contrasted by moister inland winds. Ming eyed the forest line suspiciously and strung her bow, the guards doing the same.
“We move as one, alright? No matter how interesting any of those plants are, you don’t run off and-- Taishan, TAISHAN!”
Taishan was already inside the forest, giggling joyously at all the foreign growths. Ming groaned and gave chase. Zhong Wang frowned and Rong gave him a shrug.
“Is he usually like this?”
“He tends to be more disciplined, but… Well, it has been a while since we made landfall. Still, they ought to not…” he sighed, “outrun the rest of us. Come on, Rong.”
“Hear, hear.” The two strolled along into the woods, which had already grown loud with scolding and excuses.
“What did I -just- say, Taishan?!”
“I’m sorry, general, really am. It’s just… I mean, have you seen this?” He showed her an enormous flower, one which petals were nearly the length of the clay sword at her hip. “Have you ever seen anything like this?!” He gloved one of his hands and picked a petal, shoving it into a small pot with some difficulty. Ming groaned.
“Flowers are not a valid excuse to endanger the whole expedition, Taishan, regardless of how pretty they are.”
“They are really pretty, gotta admit,” Timur added supportively. Ming shut him up with a glare.
“Regardless of how pretty they are, we -do not- endanger the--”
There came a rustling in the bushes. Ming and the guards turned around with arrows knocked to the bows. “Who’s there?”
A miniature deer with tusks bolted from the bushes, running adjacent to them until it vanished into the undergrowth of the forest. There then came the sounds of more footsteps, followed by voices quickly approaching. What came through the bushes were no deer, except very tall humanoids, who froze when they saw the Dreamers. Both were males, but another voice came from the rear, and a female appeared before going silent as well. Their skin, reminiscent of the Moksha were colored in the pattern of the stars. The taller male was a deep crimson, speckled with gold and swirls of black. He was bald, but his white glowing eyes conveyed intelligence. The shorter male, but still taller than the rest of the dreamers, had black skin with white swirls that glowed softly. His white hair was cut short. The woman’s skin was purple and pink swirls, the same as her hair, but it glowed softly. Her skin was riddled with stars.
All three had spears and bows, with simple quivers. The only clothing they had were cloth strips to cover their more sensitive regions. The taller male spoke something to the larger one, but was given no response. The female tilted her head inquisitively.
“God, they’re tall,” whispered Timur and lowered his bow. Ming and Ekbataar did the same and the general gave the master scholar a glance. Zhong Wang nodded back and Ming opened the satchel at her hip to extract the Babblefish. Holding it out by the tail, she motioned for the strangers to come closer.
The strangers did not move right away. Instead they gave each other looks and whispers. Mostly the males, whispering to the woman. She gave a side glance at times, before seemingly being fed up by the males, who stepped forward, planting her spear in the ground. With a couple long strides, she was before Ming. the tall woman looked at the Babble fish curiously. The Dreamer gestured for her to touch the fish, and the woman swore she could see it winking playfully at her.
Hesitantly, the woman reached out her hand and touched the fish.
“Howdy,” it went in a soft voice.
“H-Hello?” she said.
“Forgive my piscine appearance, madam - it’s just the way my creator made me. I’m the Babblefish. You talk, I translate. Usually, I can only translate one way, but miss Ming ‘ere found a nice lil’ loophole by holding me while you’re holding me. Y’see, I can only translate into my user’s language, so if you’re both using me? Eh? Eh?”
“Then we may understand each other?” she said looking at Ming. Her voice was exotic, rich but sweet.
“As long as we stay connected through the fish, yes,” Ming answered with a smile. She visibly calmed down and straightened herself a little. “We are the Dreamers, sons and daughters of the Elder Mothers. We come in peace, with no intention of harming anyone or anything that lives on these lands. All we ask is that we may rest our vessel at your beaches and peruse the woods for herbal remedies and the ground for mineral treasure.”
“Dreamers?” The woman said, as if thinking. “I’ve heard that name before… Oh! That’s right, you know Arya, correct?”
The Dreamers blinked at one another. Zhong Wang stepped forth and put his hand on the fish. “We know -of- her, but none of us have actually met her. Well, except for me once or twice in my youth. There should be a few more of us who would know her personally, though.”
The woman blinked, before frowning. “A shame, she speaks so highly of the dreamers. But where are my manners? Welcome to Nebulan, I am Lily, Daughter of Orvus and Rowan, sister to Ava. Thought I cannot say for sure if you are allowed to stay, I’m sure no one will really care. Come, I am sure Arya would like to see you.”
“O-oh, we--”
“We would love to come along,” Zhong Wang interjected with a smile. “I am Zhong Wang, headmaster of the Hermian Academy. This is Zhong Ming, my niece, general of the Dreamer forces.” Ming nodded politely. “We will follow if you’ll take us.”
She nodded at the both of them. “That is Cassian and Apollun. Please, follow us and be weary. We are not the only ones that now call this place home.” she said, letting go of the fish. She walked backwards before picking up her spear and speaking to the men, before she beckoned for them to follow.
Into the jungle they went.
The foliage was thick, green and abundantly beautiful. The trees were old here, and giant with their canopies blooming in size and teeming with life. Large colorful lizards basked upon warm rocks were the sun's rays could hit and the birds flew every which way, singing their myriads of songs. Insects both small and large buzzed about, dining what they did, but the foreign group stayed on edge throughout the trip as they passed creeks, ravines and went over hills. Their eyes were constantly on their surroundings. Every snap of a twig was met with a whisper and raised spears. But as they drew nearer to their destination, they began to see more of their kind, the tall beings wore simple clothing and were exotically beautiful. All had weapons of some sort as well and they were never alone either. Some even flew! But most importantly, all eyes were upon the Dreamers as they walked and there were many hushed whispers.
Lily usually dealt with the onlookers, waving disapproving hands at the others and speaking words. They came in so many colors and patterns, that it was easy to tell them apart. Eventually they reached a very large clearing, guards practically everywhere holding spears, always looking outward. There were many farms here, not as grand as the dreamers but of a different design and different crop. There were also many simple houses, with leaf roofs and wood. But perhaps the jewel of the area was the magnificent structure that rose to meet the stars. It was a plethora of colorful rocks that twinkled in the sunlight.
They walked past the mega structure and went onward as children, some roughly the same size as the dreamers, ooed and awed at the newcomers and try as she might, Lily could not dissuade them. Most curiously were the pale skinned, pointy eared children who were much smaller than the colorful ones. They looked nothing alike and were perhaps a different species entirely. As questions were made, they at last came to a clearing of two immaculate wooden cabins, spaced a ways apart. There were many flower gardens here and rocky paths.
As they walked to one cabin, the door opened and out walked a woman of white. She wore a light blue dress and a had a top her head a wide brimmed sun hat. Her smile widened as she floated over to them and without even waiting she began to hug each and every dreamer while saying, "Oh what a pleasant surprise! I was wondering when you all might show up. Welcome! Welcome to my home!" She beamed. The hug itself was the warmest one they had ever received and that warmth was not the heat kind, but the sort that made the soul feel safe, and less weary. The Dreamers hummed gleefully and bowed to her.
“D-did you expect us, Lady Arya?” Ming asked uncertainly. “Y-you are Lady Arya, correct?”
Arya looked at Ming, her expression unwavering. "I am indeed." she said bowing to them, before rising with unnatural grace. "It was always in Wenbo's soul to explore. I would have found you eventually but I am glad that you've come to me. Now, where is my dear brother and sister if you don't mind me asking?"
“The Lord and Lady, correct?” Zhong Wang asked. He wore a calm demeanour about him, if not one slightly tinted with heartfelt pain. “Lord Wenbo is unwell. The lady watches over him daily.”
A look of worry washed over her face as she looked upon Zhong Wang. "Where is he?" she asked.
“At the royal palace, my lady. He is being tended to by our finest physician - one every one of us would trust with our lives.” He bowed his head. “You needn’t worry.”
”Worrying is what I do best, I’m afraid.” she said with a small chuckle. ”I shall go see them soon, but for now I’m guessing you have many questions?”
“A number,” Wang confirmed, “the majority of which regard this island, these people and your esteemed self, Lady Arya. Would you mind if my assistant for today chronicles our conversation?”
Taishan blinked. “W-wait, I’m your assistant?”
“Nergui isn’t here, well, is she?”
Taishan nodded. “So it seems,” he mumbled and produced a roll of bark strips connected into a scroll by flax thread. Zhong Wang nodded approvingly. “What is this land?”
Arya giggled. "We call these islands the Eye of Desolation. It was formed thousands of years ago by my father, Orvus, who in the infancy of this world… Threw a meteor at it. From destruction, came life itself. Funny how that works." she mused. "This island is called Nebulan, home of the Nebulite people. Years ago Orvus returned and built upon it the foundation for this fledgling civilization. It has only improved since."
“Certainly quite a feat. Would you tell us about the Nebulite people? What is their culture like? In all our years of travel, we have yet to meet their likeness anywhere else.”
"Where would I even begin?" she said. "The Nebulite people are scattered across the world. Each group now different than the others. Here they are a simple farming people, who enjoy crafts and the arts. There is peace here… Or there was until a certain avatar decided to bring… Creatures with it. But that is not a pleasant topic of conversation."
“I will not pry, then,” Wang assured. Taishan scribbled furiously down the conversation. “What manner of crafts do they practice here?”
"Wood working, stone masonry, fletching, weaving, just to name a few. Some I've taught to fight and others I've taught to dance. Oh! And let's not forget clay working." she said smiling widely.
“Dancing, is that so?” said Wang with a smile. Ming perked up. “Yes, our Elder Mothers were quite fond of dancing. The art of the War Dance was even passed down through our parents - well, some of them.”
“Batbayaar is teaching me,” Ming blurted out. Wang gave her an acknowledging nod.
Arya eyed Ming happily. "I remember those days fondly. Waking up full of excitement at the chance to dance. Mom was a good teacher." Arya reminisced. "Batbayaar sounds familiar, but my siblings had… A lot of kids. I'd love to see you dance though." she said to Ming.
Ming cleared her throat. “The dance is less of a dance and more of a… Elder Mother must’ve explained the basics to you, yes? The martial dance?” Taishan took a breather and dipped the worn brush in ink.
Arya nodded. "Of course dear. I've even added to it over the years."
Ming’s eyes twinkled. “C-could you show me-- us?”
Arya smirked, ”Of course, but not now, I’m sure there are more questions to be had, and I’d like to see the Lord and Lady first.” she said with a wink.
“A request that can be met,” Wang agreed. “You have given us knowledge, so it’s only fair that we grant your wish as well.” He bowed curtly. “If you would follow us to the beach…”
Before she followed them, Arya turned to Lily and said, ”Double the defenses and if anything happens, pray.” Lily nodded before turning to the other Nebulites. Arya then began to follow the Dreamers.
As they passed through the jungle, Ming quietly noted, “You aren’t leaving anything to chance, are you? Is this mysterious foe that powerful?”
”There are many of them.” Arya said quietly, ”They haven’t attacked yet… But I can hear them every now and then. They probe our borders, checking our defenses. One can never be too sure when they might strike.”
“That’s terrible… Can the village withstand them, you think?”
”The Order I have taught, will do their best. We should be fine.” she said reassuringly.
“A standing force?” Ming proposed. “An order of elite warriors? Batbayaar’s told me that we should make one of those for the royal family when our young grow up.” The glistening of the beach filled their views. “... We’re close now. Chuanwang should be right over here.”
Sure enough, the resting turtle laid by the beachside, droning a quiet snore to the beat of the waves. The city on its shell was alight with the buzz of life, and the many buildings stood bathing in Heliopolis’ rays.
The Nebulite woman paused before the view, her mouth agape. ”Well…” she began, ”He’s beautiful.”
“He’d be happy to hear that,” said Ming and brought the group to the great staircase leading up the turtle’s flank. They ascended the flights together and the gates opened upon recognising the group. Inside, the market square was buzzling with hundreds of Dreamers, primarily young children. They zoomed around through the streets, but many stopped and stared at Arya with open mouths. As one stopped, more followed, and soon the streets were flanked with curious Dreamers all the way to the inner city gates. Ming and her soldiers formed a protective triangle formation around Arya and occasionally had to reroute curious toddlers straying too far from the flanks.
Arya couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. ”My oh my, so many little ones! You’ve all been very busy I see.”
“Yes, a phenomenon spurred on by divine aid,” Wang explained. “It was odd when it happened, but it was all explained quite recently.” He stopped and bowed. “If you will excuse us, Taishan and I will return to the Academy and archive our findings.”
Ming nodded. “Alright.”
”Farewell.” Arya said to the two Dreamers. She then turned back to Ming, ”Divine aid? Who helped?” she asked.
The other guards remained to guard the door, and as Ming and Arya entered the courtyard of the royal square and moved towards the palace, Ming thumbed over to a great statue depicting a humanoid shape in all its heroic glory. “That would be Yullian the Helpful.”
Arya looked upon the statue and frowned. ”I’m afraid I’ve never heard of him.” she said.
“Neither had we until quite recently. They’re a pretty mysterious being, for sure. Only one that really knows them is, well…” She swallowed. “Wouldn’t wanna bring that up before we see the lord and lady.”
”If you insist, but I would like to know more about him, if this person wants to talk.” she said warmly.
“She wouldn’t,” Ming insisted with a sad frown. “Apologies, but her spirit is quite ill and she rarely talks to anyone anymore - not even her own children. I mean… I suppose I can ask someone to introduce you, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
”Hmm.” she narrowed her eyes if thinking. ”You would be surprised what a little compassion can do. I’d like to try, all the same.” she said smiling.
Ming appeared unconvinced and gave a pitying nod. “As you wish. I’ll see that it’s done after our meeting with the lord and lady.” As the arrived at the palace gates, they were approached by a robed man trailed by two boys in the middle teens. They all gave Arya hard, curious stares. Ming bowed. “Lord De. Lord Tu, Lord Yun. Moksha’s light bring you peace and tranquility.
“May Moksha’s light bring you relief and understanding, general. Who have you brought?” asked De back with a smile.
“This is the lady Arya, our aunt and leader of the Nebulite people. We have come to see the lord and lady.”
De blinked. “Aunt Arya, is that really you?”
She nodded, ”Hello De, it’s so good to see you again. And who are these two?” she said, looking Tu and Yun.
“My, what ages it has been! I was, well, I cannot even recall how young I was when we last met. Either way, since then, I, too, have started a family of my own! These are my sons Yun and Tu - well, two of my sons, anyway.”
“The oldest…”
“... and handsomest,” they boasted one after the other.
“Boys, not now.”
She chuckled. ”Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Oh I’m so happy.” she said cheerfully.
“Oh, what for, aunt Arya?” De asked.
"To see my family thriving." she.
put simply.
“Oh,” De chuckled. “Of course. We are happy to have been so fortunate, and even happier that you would come to visit us.” He nodded at Ming. “Mother and father are upstairs in the royal chambers. Do they know you are coming?”
“We haven’t sent word,” Ming explained.
“Would you like me to tell them?”
“No, I think they would prefer the surprise. What do you think, lady Arya?”
”A surprise would be wonderful.” she mused.
“Then your arrival will be our little secret. Hear that, boys? No telling grandma and grandpa, alright?”
“Sure, dad. Have a nice day, aunt-- uh, I mean, grandaunt Arya,” Yun said with a bowed. Tu followed along. De smiled proudly and bowed along.
“Moksha’s peace be with you.”
“And with you, my lord,” the general replied.
Arya bowed humbly to them. ”Likewise, have a blessed day.”
The three remained behind as Arya and Ming continued into the palace and up the stairs. At the foot of the third floor flight, a middle-aged lady was wiping her hands with a cloth. She blinked at the arrivals. “General? Have you come to see the lord? And, uhm… Who’s this then?”
“Doctor Zhou, may Moksha bring you wisdom and knowledge. I am bringing the lady Arya to see the lord and lady.”
Zhou made a face. “Huh. Well, if that isn’t something. You wouldn’t happen to be related to our aunt Arya, would you?”
Arya laughed, covering her mouth. After a minute she said, ”Zhou, I am your aunt.”
“Fascinating,” Zhou answered and stuffed the rag in her satchel. She approached and cocked her head to the side, wearing a sly smile. “To think that even though I last saw you so many years ago, you haven’t aged a day. If you happen to know the recipe for an immortality potion, I would love to know it.”
”Hmm, if only there was such a thing.” she said, rubbing her chin. ”I would gladly give it.” she smiled.
“Yeah… The afterlife is eternal, but the ‘life’, well… Not as infinite. Now, regarding the lord, well… He has a terrible cold - he’ll be fine, but keep your distance to avoid spreading the disease, if you would.” She looked up the stairs. “I’m going back to the Academy to fetch some more sootheleaf and knacker root. While you’re up there, would you make sure the lord drinks his medicine? He never does when he’s alone.”
“The lady isn’t with him?” asked Ming.
“No, she went to see to the reconstruction of the broken grain silo. She should be back later, though.”
”Not to worry, I’ve never been sick in my life. But I’ll get him to drink his medicine.” Arya said softly.
“One time’s always the first. Take care now!” Zhou went off down the stairs.
Ming went up a number of steps. “Worry not, lady Arya. Even if we don’t see lady Ai today, Chuanwang will likely need a few more days to rest up. We won’t leave right away.”
”Oh my dear, I can always go find her if I need too.” Arya mused.
“Understood. This way, my lady.”
They continued up to the fourth floor, where the stairs gave way to a long hallway that split into three directions - left, right and centre. The centre one was short, leading up to a finely adorned door. Ming knocked on the door and waited. After a moment came a frail voice, “Come in…”
Ming pushed open the doors and entered. “Oh, it’s you, general. Have there been more news of destruction and loss?” Wenbo gave a sneeze and sniffed.
“My lord,” Ming said with a deep bow. “You have a visitor?”
“Hmm?”
Arya entered after Ming, a wide smile on her face. ”Hello, Lord Wenbo.” she said playfully.
Wenbo gaped. “A-Arya?” He sat up in his bed and tightened the loose robes about his figure. “Wha-... How--... It’s-...” He smiled. “It’s wonderful to see you, my sister. I would be better dressed, but, well, you’ve caught me in a bit of a predicament.” He sneezed again. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Ming, meanwhile, took a step back and went outside.
Arya held up a hand, ”Now now, you’re sick remember? Don’t worry about a thing.” she said walking over to him, and embracing her brother. ”It’s good to see you again.” she whispered. After a moment, she pulled away to look at him, a small smile on her face. ”It seems your home landed upon mine. I was hoping you would find me eventually, intentionally or not. I would have looked for you years ago… But I had duties to my people.”
“Your people? What sort of people do you govern?”
”I was going to tell you… All of you, but then Tendlepog became something else entirely. Around ten years ago, Orvus and Ohannakeloi created a people in his, mine, and Laurien’s image. Shortly after, Orvus and Laurien disappeared and I was left to watch over the Eye of Desolation. I’ve had my ups and downs… but things are much better now.” she smiled warmly.
Wenbo nodded. “I would be honoured to listen to your story if you’d tell it, sister. I’ll have Bei set the teapot to boil and Tian bring up some sweetbread.” He sniffed and stared out the window while wrinkling his nose. A moment passed before he muttered “ugh, nothing” and turned back to smile at Arya, sneezing promptly thereafter. “There it is.”
Arya beamed him a large smile before she began her tale of the last ten years. She told him how she met K'nell upon Tendlepog, how she met the Selka prophet, how she reunited with her old friend Split and then her arrival upon the Eye. Then she spoke of how she dealt with her loneliness and her thoughts and feelings about Orvus and Laurien seemingly abandoning her with no one to turn to. She did not tell him any of her thoughts about Paradise and what she did was vague at best.
Her stories went on until they got to the present and how she met Ashalla, Arrayn, Karamir, and then Shengshi all in the span of days. It was then she told him about Laurien's deceit and betrayal and the pain she caused. She mentioned the avatar Abraxas and his dealings with causing the moon to fall and the motes to spread. She spoke of Vrog and the creatures he brought, and how scared she was for her people. Then she grew quiet.
"I should say that Abraxas didn't just lay siege to our world… He mortally wounded Kalmar. The God of the hunt is dead and in his place, Karamir has ascended." she took in a deep breath. "But before that… Orvus had to give up his divinity to stop his avatar and in doing so… I've become a demigod as well." she said, looking at Wenbo to gauge his reaction.
Wenbo bit into a crumbly piece of sweetbread with fruit, his black brow furrowed greatly. “... This is a lot to take in… Mother and mom told us about the fall of Vakk, but… To think two more have passed.” He gave Arya a stern look. “You haven’t told anyone else, have you? That gods are, fundamentally, mortal?”
"The fall of Vakk? When did he…" her voice dropped and she blinked. "It seems I wasn't told everything, but no, I haven't told anyone specifically. Though the Nebulites know that Orvus is no longer divine." she said.
“... That information…” He grit his teeth and his voice became a whisper. “It cannot be allowed to spread. As much as I apologise for saying this, sister, I was careless just now and spoke too soon - Vakk’s death should’ve remained a secret, even to you.” He eyed the door. “It’s our duty as leaders, after all, to maintain the piety of our people.”
"You sound so much like mother." Arya sighed. "I understand where you are coming from, I do. But keeping secrets does no one any good in the end. But we shouldn't have this talk, not when I haven't seen you in years."
“Agreed.” Wenbo poured another cup of tea for the two of them. “So… Demigoddess. That makes three divine relatives. If I didn’t know better, I would almost say the Dreamers were the babies of divinity.”
"You practically are." she giggled before taking a sip. "And what's this I hear about a Yullian? That's not a name that strikes any bells."
“Right, Yullian. They are an elusive character - last seen a few weeks ago. Frankly none of us knew about them before they revealed themselves by constructing a colossal statue of themselves.” He frowned. “Apparently, they have been living among us for ten years, speaking as themselves to no one - except…”
She raised a brow. "Except…?"
“... My granddaughter, Song.” He drew some long, quiet breaths. “... Anyway, they aren’t around anymore. At least, we cannot find them.”
"Hmm Song, what a pretty name. I've already asked General Ming if I could meet her. I've been told she's not willing to talk to anyone. What happened, if I might ask?" Her voice was soft.
“If possible, I would rather not talk about it. It’s a shadow over our city that is still very much in the process of healing. Forgive me, Arya, but I would rather it be so.”
She smiled weakly and gave a small nod as she sipped her tea. "Besides that… Things are well here?"
“Apart from that, and a few other things, existence aboard Mengcheng is blissful. We have all the food we could eat, all the houses we could fill, and only truly need to stop our exploration of the world to fill our storages with resources or, if the seasons are dry, our pots with clean water. Most of that comes from the rain, though, and the skies have been kind this year, praise be to Li’kalla.”
She chuckled. "I think the rain is the last thing on Li'kalla's mind but I am happy to hear that life is good here. It fills my heart with joy, it does."
“A rain goddess that thinks not of the rain?” Wenbo chuckled. “Interesting characters, the divines… I suppose I should start referring to you properly now, shouldn’t I, lest mother scold me for my manners in the next life?” He bowed his head and smirked. “Your Holiness.”
Arya rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Please no, at least not around me."
Wenbo grinned. “I’m merely jesting. Tell me, are the Nebulites fond of music?”
"I've taught them dancing but alas, music always escaped my grasp. If they are anything like me, they'll love to listen to it." she mused.
“Then let us come over and play some for you. I’ll-I’ll do my best to come along! I’m not so old as to let a cold get the better of me.” The old dreamer began setting aside teacups and plates so he could rise out of bed without tipping them over.
”Wenbo… You know you shouldn’t leave bed. In fact, you probably need to take your medicine.” Arya chided.
Wenbo slowed down and muttered, “I just drank it.”
”Still… We could always bring my people here?” she said.
“Well… How many are you?”
"Not everyone would be able to attend, a few will have to stay behind to protect things but we number at about two thousand or so." she said thoughtfully.
Wenbo furrowed his brow. “I… I doubt we could host close to that many. Not to be rude, sister, but our policing forces have not the numbers to oversee… That many.”
”Then the beach will suffice. We’ll just have to be extra vigilant.” she said, putting a balled fist into her other hand.
“I trust your people to be civil and well-cultured in Shengshese etiquette, given what mother had us go through. We cannot provide snacks and wine for all of them, unfortunately, but that is to be expected when your people are so numerous. We will see what we can make of tea, perhaps.”
A sheepish look crossed her face. "Uh… Well, they're civil but not very well versed in Shengshese etiquette I'm afraid. But really Wenbo, it's okay. We can bring food and drink as well." she said.
Wenbo furrowed his brow. “Well… I trust you, then. Have them gather on the beach and I’ll ready the band on our part.”
"I can do that but first… I need to see Song." she said, getting up.
Wenbo groaned. “Arya, please…”
"I can help her, now more than ever before. It is my duty, Wenbo. I will no longer stand idly by while people suffer, powerless to help." she said firmly.
“She’s--!” Wenbo swallowed. “Will you enchant her, is that it? Lock her feelings inside herself with magic? Divine power can heal many wounds, sister, but can it truly fix those that bereave the soul of joy?”
"Perhaps it can, perhaps it can't. There's only one way to find out, brother. A little compassion can go a long way." she said, her expression saddened.
A hand dragged itself slowly across Wenbo’s face and he sighed into it. After a few seconds, he called, “General Ming!” The door swung open and the general entered and bowed.
“Your orders, my lord?”
“Take my sister here to see Song. Stop by Fei on the way and pay her a small visit, too. If she is to see the spark, she may as well see the flame, too.”
Reluctantly, it seemed, Ming uttered firmly, “As you wish, my lord,” and turned to Arya, gesturing to the doorway, “If the lady would follow.”
"Thank you, Wenbo. I'll see you soon." Arya said softly.
“You won’t be thanking me after you’re done,” Wenbo replied somberly, facing away from the two. “I wish you good luck. Help her if you can. Moksha’s tranquility trail your feet.”
She bowed and then followed Ming out the door. They walked down the stairs, the general silent and strict in her demeanour, though leaks of emotion dripped through occasional twitches in her eyes and the shape of the curve of her frown. She kept one hand firm on the pommel of her blade and the other swinging back and forth to the rhythm of her steps.
Arya's face was neutral as they walked, yet there was great thought behind her eyes. The streets they passed through were abuzz as was usual in the afternoons. Even as Heliopolis began to redden the sky, the Dreamer children flew back and forth across the paved roads, running in circles around Arya and making all sorts of comments about her height, complexion and brightness. The outnumbered adults did their best to shepherd them away.
It brought a smile to Arya's lips and she did not mind, giving reassuring comments and kind words. Nonetheless, the parents apologised for their children’s behaviours. The torrent of happily squealing children seemed endless, culminating into a small wall outside one specific house. While the children all individually sought to gain Arya’s attention, Ming rapped on the front door and waited. A minute and another round of raps passed before the door opened and out looked the groggy face of a woman Ming’s senior by about a decade. She looked surprised when she saw who had been rapping and said,
“Heeeey, general? Out of everyone I would expect, you are not one of them. Unless--”
“No, Fei, I have not changed my mind.”
“Figured as much,” she muttered. “What do you need?”
Ming stepped to the side and thumbed at Arya, who was still under assault by the tidal wave of curious kids.
”Hello Fei.” Arya began as a couple girls pulled on her sleeves. ”I’ve come to see Song.” she said.
What little colour Fei had in her face left and she gave Ming a hard look. “Is she serious?”
“Afraid so. We’re heading over to her house later. Thought she should know a bit more about her situation before we did.”
Fei drew a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know how I feel about this whole thing, Mingy - I already take care of, of…” “Yes, and you’re doing a stellar job, Fei, but…” Ming shifted her look to Arya and back. “She might be able to help her.”
Fei did the same, but eyed Arya for a little longer. “... If you say so, general. Come on in, you two. I’ll go get the oldest.”
Ming nodded and stepped inside, beckoning Arya after her. She followed, bending down to enter through the doorway. The inside of the house was incredibly roomy, almost deceptively so judging from how it looked from the outside. Along the walls were bunk beds stacked in towers of five, and hammocks were stretched between the towers and the walls where no more could fit. Along the centre of the room ran long tables flanked by benches, and the hall ended in a great hearth at the far end where a massive clay pot stood steaming. A number of the bunks spawned heads, and from every corner of the room came more children to marvel at the stranger. Fei and Ming tried to shepherd them back to their beds.
“You can either go outside and play, or stay inside and sleep! There’s no middle ground!” Fei scolded as she pulled one of the more enthusiastic children by the arm back to the bunks, the boy crying all the while.
”Are all of these… Her children?” Arya asked, bewildered.
“Not all of them,” Fei replied as she pushed another flock outside. “While the majority are hers, these are all children that were either unwanted, orphaned or somehow left without a willing caretaker. So yeah, by majority, I mean that there are, maybe, four or five that are not hers.” She clapped her hands free of dust and bowed to Arya. “By the way, I am Wen Fei, third daughter of Wenbo. I manage this orphanage.”
”Orphanage… Interesting.” Arya murmured as she looked around at all the small faces.
“I would have gone with ‘stressful’, but interesting comes close, too, I suppose,” she agreed and took a seat by the table, gesturing for Arya to do the same. Ming remained standing. Four children, three boys and a girl, came over and sat down next to Fei, opposite of Arya. Their eyes looked everywhere but to the front. Fei frowned. “Lady Arya, let me present the eldest children of Song and Urangtai: Gan, Yongbei, Ulagan and Nuya. Say hello now, children.”
In quiet, empty voices, the four bowed their heads slightly and whispered, “Hello…” Fei sighed.
Arya sat awkwardly at the small table and on the chair, but smiled at the children, even if they would not look upon her. ”Hello Gan, Yongbei, Ulagan and Nuya. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Arya, sister of Lord Wenbo and Lady Ai and your great-aunt. I’ve come to help.”
The children were silent. Fei groaned. “What do we say when someone offers help?” Eventually, the one introduced as Gan muttered a faint “thanks…” Fei took him by the ear and he repeated himself louder. The other children bowed their heads slightly.
At the display, Arya stared daggers into Fei. ”You may leave, niece.” she said softly.
Fei blinked. “Huh? Why me?”
”They won’t talk to me if you are standing over them and chiding them to speak. Now please, go.” she said.
Fei scoffed, looked to Ming and found no support in the general’s eyes. She got to her feet and walked outside with a surly demeanour. The children all sat with pursed lips and shifty eyes.
Once she was gone, Arya clapped her hands together and immediately the room popped with uncanny warmth. The temperature did not rise, but the hearts of the little dreamers would see Arya in a new light. She was no longer some odd stranger, but a beacon of kindness in the dark waters that surrounded them and clouded their vision. Ease and tension, slowly drifted away as emotions began to rise.
”I understand your sadness and your anger.” she began, ”Please… Speak to me, let it all out.” she said warmly.
“Why?!” Yongbei suddenly shouted, scaring his siblings.
”A question we all ask, Yongbei.” Arya said.
“Wha-?”
“That’s dumb,” Ulagan muttered.
”Is it?” she asked. ”Now, your mother… What can you tell me about her?” she asked softly.
The children grew ever gloomier. Nuya began to sob and Yongbei crossed his arms furiously across his chest. Gan stood up and walked away. Ulagan glared at Arya and said, “We don’t talk about her.”
”I see.” she said, sympathising with them as she watched Gan leave. ”You know… My father kicked me out of my home. It was cruel and mean and I did not understand. You have my sympathy children. We don’t have to talk about your mother, not unless you want to.” Arya then reached across the table and wiped a few tears away from Nuya’s eyes. ”It’ll be okay, little sunshine.”
“Why did your dad make you leave?” Nuya mumbled through the sobs.
”He did not know how to love, and he was afraid that he would never be good enough for me.”
“That’s dumb,” Ulagan interjected angrily. “Why was he not good enough?”
She turned to Ulagan, ”He was though, Ulagan. It was his own self worth that kept him from being able to see that he was good enough. It wasn’t instantly, but a long time and when he finally found me again… He apologized for what he had done.”
“How long?” the boy snarled back, scraping cuts in the tabletop with his fingernail. Yongbei and Nuya sat wordlessly and stared at their laps.
”As long as it took.” Arya said, staring at his hands.
“How long?!” Ulagan snarled again. Nuya began to sob again and Yongbei got up and left.
”I’m going to go find out.” Arya said, standing up. She turned to face Ming, her expression wordlessly blank. The room’s strange warmth, returned to normal.
The general uncrossed her arms and put one hand on the pommel of her blade, bowing. “My lady?”
”Take me to Song.” she said, the kindness in her voice absent as she looked ahead.
Ming sighed. “My lady, are you certain?”
”No, but now I have too.” she put simply.
Ming bowed curtly. “As the lady wishes.” She turned to the door and went outside, Arya following along. The pair made their way to the far right side of the turtle where the dust in the streets was thick and the sounds of children laughing and playing were distant. They zig-zagged past empty houses waiting to be filled with new Dreamer families in time, god-built shelter that was resistant to the elements, but not to insect infestations. Eventually, they came upon a house which made itself unique in that it had a guard outside. She perked to her feet as she spotted the general and bowed.
“At ease, dear niece,” Ming replied. “Is she awake?” Jianbing eyed the door briefly. “Yes, general. At least, she was a moment ago.”
“Very good. Take a break, initiate.”
“R-really, general?”
“Yeah, go get yourself some supper. I hear Wen Bei will be making beef noodles at her stall. Hurry along if you want to get some before it runs out.”
Without a word, the initiate set off on a sprint back to the livelier part of town. Ming made a short-lived smile before eyeing the door again. She turned to Arya and said, “I will be here if you need me. I don’t know what you have in mind for her, but… I trust you’ll do your best.”
”I hope so.” Arya whispered, entering into the house after a brief pause.
The inside was black as night save for the dimmed evening light passing through woven linen curtains. There was an awful congregation of rank sweat, rotting food and other bodily odours cursing the air. From what Arya’s divine vision could see, the house was largely empty save for a table, a chair, empty wine pots and the faint contour of a bed towards the back behind a wall. Before she could close the door, there came a voice:
“Leave.”
Arya ignored the voice and took another step inside. A clay pot shattered against the wall a distance away.
“LEAVE!”
She did not flinch as the pot shattered. ”Song…” Arya said sadly. ”Please, let me help you.” Her foot squeezed some rotten food.
Song spat. “Is ‘go away’ any clearer?!” Another pot smashed against the wall, this one slightly closer to Arya. “GO AWAY!”
”No, I won’t. I’m going to stay here and help you. Because I haven’t been able to help anyone else, and I’m not going to leave knowing that you are wasting your life away, while your children need their mother.” she said, balling her fists while only slightly raising her voice.
“STOP! STOP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” More pots smashed apart, this time at the floor around Arya’s feet. One or two actually hit her directly. Song was standing now, a starved skeleton of a Dreamer with black, ruined locks of hair and a weakened body wrapped in rags. Her breathing was heavy, as if throwing things made her winded. “SNAP OFF! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!”
”Why don’t you care, Song? Please, I just want to know. You don’t know me, but I want you to know, that I care for you.” Arya said, taking a step closer.
Song picked up the stool by the table and swung it in the air. “I don’t need your PITY!” She swung at Arya. Arya paused and blinked as she dodged the swing. Oddly, it went by very slowly. ”You… Are correct, Song.” she said, taking a step back.
“SHUT. UP!” Song took another swing. “Why?! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!” At this point, she was slowly moving the stool through the air in a manner that could possibly be a threat to a pillar of dry sand.
Deftly, Arya grabbed the stool in the air, preventing Song from swinging it. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead narrowed her eyes in thought and said nothing. As gently as she could, Arya took the stool from Song.
Weeks of neglecting to eat and drink properly had finally caught up with her, and Song collapsed forward against Arya, hammering weakly at her torso. “Snap oooout… Get the snap oooouuut!”
After a moment of letting her hit her, Arya reached out and embraced Song into a warm hug. Song seemed too weak to resist, though she still kept screaming for Arya to let her go and leave. As the hug lasted, she began to sob and beg to be alone. She eventually tried to lie and say that she felt all better, only to break back into furious scolding when it didn’t work. And still she hugged Song, something compelling her to hold the girl against her torso. She realized that before Song could even think about helping others, she had to help herself first. She slowly began to run her fingers in her hair, combing what she could.
Eventually, Song whimpered, “Why do you torment me so?”
Still Arya said nothing. She thought hard however, and from her fingertips, a small glowing comb appeared. It’s purpose, to comb hair, was but a side effect to what else it caused. It had a small aura of compassion, that only worked when hair was being combed. It was her first artifact and it seemed right.
“What makes you think you can just, just waltz into my home - not even my home - the house they threw me in and think that you can just--” She made another attempt to push and pull herself loose. “I hate you! Go snap yourself! Go--!” She coughed and swallowed her curses.
”Let it all out Song.” Arya whispered, while holding back her own tears.
“Who do you even think you are?! I am royal blood and you have NO right to, to, to… To treat me this way!”
”A friend.” she said simply, at last combing the entirety of her hair. It was then she let go of Song and held her by her upper arms. She still tried to wriggle herself loose.
“A friend?! What sort of friend ignores my demands to leave me alone, traps me in a hold and then so selfishly tells me to talk about my feelings as if they’re not for me to keep!” She tried to form a ball of phlegm in her dry mouth, but failed. “You, you are a pest. Leave. Me. Be!”
She let go of the girl, her arms falling to her side as she clutched the small comb. She shrugged and went about, beginning to clean up the place with unnatural speed.
Song watched in disbelief. “Are you deaf, is that it? Did they send me a deaf servant in hopes that it would cure my heartache?”
She continued to clean, by picking up the broken pottery and rotten food and placing it into a pile by the door. All the while she listened to Song. So it was heartache. Fei had said a name… Urangtai. Something had happened to him, for she knew he was no longer with the living. Yet, still she said nothing.
Song kept a surly glare and slowly made her way back to bed. “Well, whatever it is, feel free to leave at your earliest convenience.” She laid down on the wooden bed with a creak. “I will die here, alone and unloved. There is no other fate for me.”
Arya continued to clean, occasionally glancing back at Song with wondering eyes. She felt unloved? Alone? It seemed hardly possible in such a place, but who was she to judge such a thing? Song was deeply hurting and no one knew what to do, not even her really.
“Are you done yet?” came an eventual complaint.
”No.” was all she said.
“Well, hurry up. Night is approaching.” The outside was indeed getting rather dim.
”That it is.” she said back to her.
There came no answer. Song laid in bed facing the wall, angry breathing being the only sound she made. After a time, she began to sob.
Sensing this, Arya stopped cleaning and went over to the bed, sitting down next to her. It was probably the last place Song wanted her, but Arya knew she was close. So, she began to hum a tune, one that was Dreamer in origin, called the ‘Summer’s Heart’. She forgot who wrote it, save only that it was a long time ago. Back when her siblings had been teenagers. Many a tear, back on Tendlepog, had been shed while she hummed.
After a while and a number of sniffs, Song asked, “What song is that?”
”Summer’s Heart.” Arya said after a pause.
Song swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve never heard that one before… At least, no one’s sung it in my presence.” A moment passed. “Why have you come here?”
”I wanted to see my niece.” she said.
“That’s it?” came a sour reply. “You wanted to see the niece you have maybe seen once or twice before? Why?”
”Because she is suffering, and it breaks my heart to know it.” she said softly.
“Of course, I’m suffering! The love of life is gone!” She curled up into a ball. “How can I go on? The father of my forty children and the reason I exist - gone.”
”How did he pass?” she asked gently.
“He--...” The sobbing worsened to the point where she couldn’t speak. “Go away…”
”I’m sorry… That was insensitive.” Arya sighed.
“Go awaaaay…”
Arya stood up and wiped herself off. She walked over to the door, but before she opened it she turned her head and said, ”Thank you for your time, Song. If it all you want to talk… Just pray to me.” she said solemnly, before opening the door and leaving her behind.
There came no answer save for sobbing. Outside, Ming was waiting faithfully along with Jianbing. As Arya closed the door behind her, the general and the soldier both bowed.
“How did it go, my lady?” Ming asked.
”About as well as you probably expected.” Arya sighed. ”Her grief and sense of self worth are low, and she believes herself to be alone, and uncared for. She loved Urangtai deeply, didn’t she?” Arya asked.
“Love doesn’t come close to it. She was fanatical. Clung to him like a tick wherever he went.”
“We eventually pieced together that she likely got some help from Their Holiness Yullian in actually making Urangtai fall in love with her again. How they did it, we still don’t know, but… Well, it’d be hard to fall in love with, well…” Jianbing shut herself up and put her hands innocently behind her back upon seeing Ming’s glare.
“Either way, my lady, we must return to the city. Lord Wenbo has already made preparations for tonight’s concert.”
”This is concerning news… It would have been nice knowing that, going into this… But for now, go tell my brother I’ve been delayed. I’ll need to go get my people ready! It shouldn’t be long.” she said, beginning to take off.
“Snap, she can fly?!” Jianbing yelled after her.
“Ssh! Not so loud. Stay at your post until your replacement arrives.”
“When’s that?”
“Shouldn’t be too long now. Just make certain she doesn’t, y’know…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jianbing replied knowingly and saluted. Ming saluted back and went off back to the city.
Night had fallen and most of the children had gone to sleep. Torches lit up occasional areas of the city, but it was largely cast in darkness - except for the right gate. It was open and surrounded with flickering torches. On the beach below, a number of Dreamers dressed in their finest clothing had brought morin khuurs, guqins and drums. They were tuning their instruments, lead by Batbayaar and Wen Bei. Bows sawed at the strings and sticks hammered against drumskins. Batbayaar and a few others unleashed the gentle bass of kargyraa throat song while the women backed up with the lighter khoomei. They tried to practice as much as possible before the Nebulites arrived.
And arrive they did, up above the trees and through the forests, tall, exotic beings, wearing simple garments in tow. With them they rough baskets of food and other crafting items. At the forefront, was Arya. With her was a man and woman, who more closely resembled the Dreamers, then they did the other Nebulites, and upon closer inspection, there were many more intertwined in the group.
It was time for the festival to begin.
Dreamers arrive at the Eye. An expedition lead by Wang and Ming heads out. They meet Nebbies. The Babblefish helps them bridge the communication gap. They head into Nebby lands and meet Arya. Arya’s happy to see them. Arya comes back to Chuanny with them. Arya meets Wen De, Doctor Zhou and Wenbo. Wenbo is syyiiick, so they have tea. They catch up, talk about this and that, Arya learns about Song and wants to help out. Wenbo says that’s a touchy ass subject and instead invites her to a music festival. Arya agrees and says she wants to help Song again. Wenbo reluctantly agrees and Arya is then taken to see Song’s kids. As expected, kids who have been thrown out by their mom are not really keen on talking about said mom, so Arya doesn’t get much out of them. She goes to Song and says she wants to help her. Song is depressed af and tells her to leave. Arya is stubborn and doesn’t leave. It takes a while for Song to stop throwing things at her and eventually, she is trapped in Arya’s hug. This does not spark joy, as Song keeps struggling until she is released again. She goes to bed and Arya cleans up her house, which is filthy, by the way. After a moment, Song slowly opens up and Arya instantly drops the “so, how’d your husband die, eh?” Song’s confidence is shattered and she tells Arya to get out. Arya does so and she and Ming head to the festival instead.
Arya and Laurien;
0MP & 4FP
-1MP(Discounted through Compassion) to create a small, glowing comb of white. It soothes those being brushed.
Wenbo stood on the veranda of the royal bed chambers, at the very top floor of the Mengcheng palace. It was dark out, but then again, it was always dark out under the sea. The vicious drums of meteors striking the surface had long since subsided, and all that coloured the deep water soundscape now was the buzz of their own city below. The contrast of red flickers of flame dancing in the shade of the abyss was almost ominous - such light had likely never reached this deep before. Another quiet prayer escaped his lips to thank Yullian for this opportunity - now, even the deep seas could be mapped and explored.
“Still up, father?” came a sweet voice and Wenbo turned to see his eldest daughter Bei, who approached holding a torch. Wenbo struck a half-grin.
“It’s difficult to tell what time of day it is down here. Neither Heliopolis’ rays nor the Garden’s sheen can dive this deep.”
Bei deposited the torch in a nearby bracket and sat down in a chair by the veranda door. “I miss the day, to be honest. All this darkness all the time is, frankly, a little depressing. Why are we still submerged?”
Wenbo hummed. “To be fair, my dear, I cannot really answer that adequately. The fire of the sky stopped quite recently, didn’t it?”
“A few days ago, if I recall correctly.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, in that case, I will have a word with Chuanwang about our ascent.”
Bei smiled warmly. “Thanks, father.”
“Please, don’t be so formal, Bei-by.”
Bei flushed red and giggled. “S-stop! That name was never clever or funny!”
“Indeed, it was always quite un-bei-able, wasn’t it?”
A snort escaped Bei’s laughter. “Dad, you’re awful!”
“No, little Bei,” Wenbo protested with a smirk, “I am Wen-derful.”
“If my husband turns out like you, I will jump off this turtle.”
The two kept chuckling for a short moment before an odd sound cut through. It was like a squeal - a very distant squeal, but not one made by a Dreamer. Wenbo frowned.
“Did you hear something?”
“Y-yeah?” Bei voiced with concern.
From within the darkness of the water surrounding the city, lines of light appeared in a small area. They shimmered and twisted and blinked. A long, slender red form with tentacles and a great eye could be seen briefly as the originator of the light before inky blackness swallowed the scene. A low, haunting otherworldly call sounded shortly afterwards.
A rumble trembled through the city and both knew it was Chuanwang.
“He is uneasy,” Wenbo mumbled. Bei swallowed.
“Dad, tell him to resurface.”
“Agreed. Let’s go.” The pair rushed through the palace with quick steps. They had barely made it down to the third floor before they were stopped by Ai wearing an equally concerned expression.
“Did you hear that?”
“We did,” Wenbo confirmed. “We are on our way to tell Chuanwang to swim to the surface.”
“Oh, good. Be swift. We don’t know what the ocean holds.”
They exchanged nods and Wenbo and Bei continued. Out in the courtyard, a few had stopped in their tracks to stare up through the shield bubble that surrounded the city. Some children were sobbing. Around the gate to the Hermian Academy, the guards stared fearfully at the ink cloud.
“You look like you’ve had a nightmare,” Wenbo said to them.
“Th-there was something out there, my lord,” one of them said in a quivering voice. “Something h-huge.”
“Is that so? What did it look like?”
“We’ve… We’ve never seen anything like it!”
“Dad, we cannot delay,” Bei interjected before Wenbo could probe any further.
“Right,” the dreamer lord muttered. “Worry not, guards, we’ll soon be up on the surface again. For now, open these gates, if you’d please.”
The gates swung open and the pair headed swiftly towards the back wall of the Academy square.
As they walked, another sensation came over the Dreamers. Their skin prickled and their hair stood on end. Another tremble shuddered through the city. Wenbo drew a gasp.
“He’s felt something - a presence.”
“Chuanwang has?” They picked up their pace.
“Yes, and I doubt he will be able to avoid it peacefully from how he describes it.” He took Bei by the shoulder. “Tell all the guards to spread throughout the city. Tell everyone to get off the streets and take shelter inside their homes. If they have a cellar, have them hide down there along with as many neighbours as they can fit.”
“R-right!” She took the old Dreamer’s hand. “Be safe, dad.”
Wenbo smiled. “I won’t pass on into Moksha quite yet. Now go.”
Bei nodded and ran back to the guards. Wenbo continued onwards towards the wall, praying all the while that his voice would carry to Chuanwang’s ears even through the barrier. As he approached, the prickling sensation on his skin grew stronger. The shell beneath Wenbo’s feet twitched and shuddered. Chuanwang suddenly roared and the city was briefly tossed to the right. Wenbo lost his footing and nearly fell off the stairs leading to the battlements. A creaking fence was all that had kept him from an early ascent to Moksha.
“Don’t worry, Chuanwang, just hold on, alri--WOAH!” Another toss sent him to the left, where the fence nearly gave out. Grabbing onto both sides, Wenbo took a moment to stabilise, calling out, “CHUANWANG! SWIM UP!” There came no reaction and the lord grit his teeth. He would have to get closer. He kept climbing, distant screams and weeps coming from the city behind him as another twitch thundered through its stone foundations.
Wenbo reached the rampants with great difficulty and peeked over the side. It was dark, the barrier extending but a quarter of a metre away from the edge of the wall. If he stretched out, he could potentially pierce it with his hand. He drew a deep breath.
“Chuanwang! What ails you?!”
Another quake rumbled through the city, but Wenbo only frowned at it. “Yes, I realise it’s painful, but -what- is causing it?!”
No answer. “Damn it, you still can’t hear me, can you…” Wenbo looked around for solutions. In the meantime, the city’s foundation began to quake even more. It titled forwards, backwards and sidewards, as if Chuanwang was trying to kick something away. A distant cacophony of tumbling stone told Wenbo one of their construction projects had finally reached its limit for what it could withstand. He tried punching at the barrier while shouting for the turtle. All he managed was to pierce it with his fists, although at this pressure the water was much harder than he had expected. Wenbo felt the sting of cold water and a jolt of electricity run from his hand through his chest. He cursed to himself, and the tremors continued for a while until they eventually stopped, along with the prickling sensation.
Wenbo blinked and tried once more to look over the side of the ramparts, frowning as he remembered the futility of it. Once more, he tried to shout, “CHUANWANG! SWIM UP!” This time, the ground seemed to tilt backwards and Wenbo grabbed onto the wall for support. It was still uncertain whether Chuanwang had actually heard him or if he simply was annoyed at the lifeforms this deep, but either way, the goal had been accomplished. He looked up to see the very distant twinkles of day peek through waves and wildlife. It wouldn’t be long before they could see again.
The ascent was lengthy, giving time for the Dreamers’ eyes to begin to adapt to the brightness above. When Chuanwang reached the surface, the barrier peeled back like a bubble as it met the open air. Pure, unfiltered sunlight streamed down into the city. The sound of waves and splashing water washed in from outside, crisp and unfettered by ocean and barrier. A fresh, salty sea breeze blew in and swept away the stale smoke-tinged air which the inhabitants of Mengcheng had been making and breathing for the past few days.
Around the city on the back on Chuanwang stretched open ocean as far as the eye could see. Deep blue rippled and shone with reflected sunlight beneath an azure canvas painted with fluffy white clouds. Nearby frolicked a pod of dolphins, making creaking chirps and curiously inspecting the new arrival. Wenbo drew a gasp and chuckled to himself, the laughter increasing in intensity as it went on. He stretched out his arms and let out a loud cheer, grabbing onto the wall again shortly after as the wind threatened to push him off balance.
“My lord!” came a call behind him and he turned to see general Ming.
“Ming! Come up here! The wind feels wonderful!” He took a deep breath. “Ah, can you taste that crisp air?”
“My lord, with all due respect, you’ll get sick if you stand in the wind for too long!”
“Sick? Me? Nooooo… Besides, doctor Zhou will make me all better.” He blinked as if realising something. “Oh, hold on a moment.”
“My lord, I must insist--”
“Hey, Chuanwang! Are you alright?”
There came a surly rumble that dissipated slowly. Wenbo nodded with the occasional hum. “Right, so your leg got bitten by a tiny weird snake?”
“My lord…?”
“How’d it even bite through your skin? Aren’t you made of stone?” “Lord Wenbo!”
“What?”
“There have been multiple accidents, my lord. Please, if you would come along.”
“Accidents?” The joy of fresh air and freedom disappeared in an instant. “Has anyone gotten hurt?”
“It… May be best if the lord sees for himself.” The two then proceeded down the ramparts towards the city.
The cacophony of crumbling buildings earlier hadn’t been exaggerated. The industrial square had fortunately not suffered any damage to the furnaces that could’ve caused an outbreak of fire, but a number of storehouses built by the Dreamers had crumbled, and the pottery inside with them. A number of tents and stalls in the market had fallen over, and perhaps most devastating was the loss of a nearly full silo of grain, a golden sea of freshly harvested wheat laying spread across the streets. Wenbo rubbed a pair of tired eyes.
“Have there been any other accidents?”
Ming hung her head. “Only one, my lord. This way.”
The general led him down the southern streets, almost towards the agricultural hub wall. There, a heap of crumbled stone lay behind steadier constructions. Judging from the age of the materials, it was one of the newer houses, built primarily to serve as a storehouse. However, it was not uncommon for these to have cellars too, or lead to cellars, and this one in particular had been constructed right above a trapdoor down to a large storage area. A number were already digging away at the rocks to access the door, but a small distance away from the heap laid two woven blankets, contours in the fabric revealing still, humanoid shapes underneath. Wenbo drew a sharp gasp.
“... Who were they?”
“They have been identified as the young Zhong Renai and Temur - my sister’s children.”
“My deepest condolences, general. I cannot even fathom what it must be like to, to lose someone so abruptly.”
“My sister is below, my lord. She will likely be in greater need of warm words than me.” She rested her hand on the pommel of her clay shortsword. “How will you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Put them to rest, my lord.”
Wenbo furrowed his brow and stepped over to the blankets. He pulled the closest one away slightly and shut his eyes hard at the sight. “No dreamer has passed on since, since Urangtai. His manner of death made burning the most… Convenient.” He winced at his own diction. “... I should consult Moksha about this, or Zhong Wang. Wang might have a solution.”
“The headmaster will likely be grieving as well, my lord. Renai was a beloved niece of his.”
“I see. That is understandable, then.”
“Furthermore, if I may speak frankly, my lord…”
“Go on.”
“... It should be up to their families to decide how they are returned to the clay.”
Wenbo hummed and eventually nodded. “You’re right, I… I spoke out of line. Their mother shall be the one to decide.”
At that moment came another rumble and the Dreamers in the area all jerked to face the front of their city. Wenbo grit his teeth and Ming threw him a worried frown.
“What is it, my lord? What is he saying?”
“There’s more out there. He senses another presence. Stay here. I will go back!”
“My lord!”
“Stay here!”
Ming froze and glared at the ground. Squeezing the pommel of her blade, she nodded slowly. “Yes, my lord.”
“Good. I will be right back.”
Wenbo hurried through the streets, which were being emptied as people once more retreated into their houses to avoid being tossed everywhere in case Chuanwang had to move. He appreciated that the city wasn’t very long, but closer to the Hermian Academy, the streets grew a little too zig-zaggy to be efficient. He eventually reached the ramparts from before, though, and looked over the side to see what Chuanwang had laid his eyes on.
In the water nearby moved an enormous shape, far larger than any whale or other sea beast Wenbo had seen. It looked bulbous, although its patterning and colouration made it nearly impossible to distinguish its exact outline. Then stripes and colours danced across the creature’s surface. A greeting, territorial but not hostile.
Chuanwang rumbled. Wenbo nodded. “Yes, maintain a friendly attitude. We cannot risk any more conflict.” Wenbo waved weakly and shouted, “Hello! Don’t mind us, please - we’re just passing by!” The sea breeze tossed his long, black hair out of its braid.
The creature’s colours shifted to a speckled reddish-pink. Frills stretched along the edge of the bulbous form, tentacles waved below it, and two giant eyes looked up at Wenbo and the city of Dreamers. The Kraken raised a couple of tentacles and became blue with a few shifting yellow circles, the patterns saying, Where did you come from? Where are you going?
Wenbo smiled. “Aha. M-hm. An honour to meet you, great marvel of the sea. We are the Dreamers, and we last came from the depths after hiding from the rain of fire. We are heading, well, wherever the great turtle takes us.”
The Kraken turned black with red zig-zags at the mention of the rain of fire - a fearful gesture. It shifted back to a neutral speckled reddish-pink, Then the Kraken became a black-blue gradient with more yellow circles and waving arms, a gesture saying, Where before the depths?
Wenbo hummed. “Our last landfall was on the land south of here - lots of mountains and horribly frightening monsters further inland. Though…” A frown coloured his face. “If you mean our true home, I suppose I should say Tendlepog.”
The former continent’s description garnered confusion from the Kraken, but it seemed to understand the latter. The Kraken’s eyes scanned across Wenbo, Chuanwang and the city. Then it sunk back beneath the waves, blending in with the water and disappearing from sight.
Wenbo looked over the ramparts, seeing nothing but the huge shell and the faint silhouette of Chuanwang’s head. “Did he leave?” The turtle grumbled. “Oh, I see. Well, better hope he doesn’t scare the life out of anyone down hubwards.” He smiled and spun around, but before he could set a foot on the stairs, a cold seabreeze soared by. Wenbo inhaled and let out a sneeze. He dabbed his sleeve on his runny nose and cleared his throat. Shaking his head for a minute, he then proceeded back towards the city. And Chuanwang continued to swim slowly through the ocean, with the city on his back.
Chuanwang and Mengcheng and the Dreamers are underwater. The creatures of the deep are spooking them. Before they can ascend, a Deep-Terror attacks Chuanwang. Chuanwang is mostly unharmed, but the conflict causes a few buildings to collapse. A lot of grain is lost, and two Dreamers are killed.
Chuanwang returns to the surface. The Kraken pops by to figure out who this strange creature is, where they came from and where they are going. The Kraken lurks around quietly.
“We shall be pure of heart and strong of body…” Fu Lai’an said in a bubbly voice. Before her a large crowd of pygmy children echoed her words.
“Untainted by doubt and never lacking honor…”
“Untainted by doubt and never lacking honor!”
“Guided by the Mẹta, core the World Pillars--”
“Guided by the Mẹta, core the World Pillars--”
Fu Lai’an raised a finger to signal to the children that attention here was especially critical. “Might in the face of one's work; Guile in the face of the enemy; Vision in face of the future.”
The children chimed after: “Might in the face of one's work; Guile in the face of the enemy; Vision in face of the future.”
Fu Lai’an nodded proudly. “Each must strive to embody all three as an ideal for prosperity.”
The children sang along: “Each must strive to embody all three as an ideal for prosperity!”
“For if any is weak in a single one it may falter the whole.”
“For if any is weak in a single one it may falter the whole!”
“So all must strive for a thousand times for a thousand years.”
“So all must strive for a thousand times for a thousand years!”
Fu Lai’an patted one of the closest ones and it flashed her an eager smile. “Now remember, kids - unto the very end of eternity.”
The children threw their hands into the air. “Unto the very end of eternity!”
It had been a number of months since Narzhak’s visit. Since then, Anu had demanded redoubled efforts into a total overhaul of state control over the pygmies. The Mẹta, also known as the Oath, was only one of the steps on the way to a nation devoted entirely to the betterment of the collective.
Within weeks of the visit, the King’s officials had nationalised every rice paddy, assuming full control of production, collection and redistribution of rice. All the farmers were employed with a salary consisting of ration chips, with additional bonuses in store for the hard-working. Management of the farms were given to the very first foremen - the first generation of which had been selected based on excellent conduct as a citizen of Talemon. Such was the temporary system while the Council drafted proper examination processes. At this stage, however, the introduction of the system faced a number of protests, especially from the farmers whose homes were taken from them. While the ration chip salary was higher than what they would normally receive from a harvest, it did not outweigh the drawbacks of losing their land. These protests, however, were immediately portrayed as a betrayal against the greater nation and punished accordingly, and within a year, they had disappeared.
Another source of protests was the relatively immediate implementation of the Ntọala, the castes. To ensure maximum efficiency on every level of society, citizens would now dedicate their lives to perfecting their crafts and skills - much in the same way the Servants were organised:
Carrying the society on their backs were the Laala caste - the builders, farmers, engineers, potters, claydiggers; they were those who worked the industries of Talemon. Their caste was the largest.
Protecting the society from the many new beasts of the plains and jungle were the Ogun - the warriors, warmasons and mansa of the Talemon. Their numbers were few, especially the mansa, but warleader Qiang Quan was certain that both men and mana would appear in the future, allowing for a much expanded military.
Managing the society fell to the Oludari - the administrators, merchants, diplomats, bureaucrats and overseers. This was the second smallest caste, consisting only of the trial foremen and a few personal servants and assistants to the councillors.
Finally, those who lead the society made up the Oba caste, and theirs was an exclusive position. The caste had merely five members, those being the four councillors - and His Majesty.
Initially, this quick overhaul and rigidisation of society fueled great outrage - especially since children were taken from their parents at the age of ten to apprentice for the various crafters, farmers, warriors or bureaucrats, depending on what they showed an affinity for. As with those who protested against nationalisation of farmlands and industry, these rebels were dealt with accordingly. The will of Anu would not be denied.
However, the Council quickly saw that this system had great room for expansion. Furthermore, the clay pits on the Talemonese side of the river were running dry. Crossing Beihe would require vessels akin to that of His Lordship, but sophisticated boats required tools they simply had no concept of. Much could be achieved with sticks and stones, but it would be impossible to make ships in Jiangzhou’s image with such primitive tools. With these three points in their mind, the council approached His Majesty in the second year.
“Your Majesty,” Zhu Rongyuan began. “The people are at last beginning to adjust to His Majesty’s philosophy of the World Pillars. Great prosperity will be within Your mighty grasp in time. However, a number of points remain to be addressed.”
Fu Lai’an nodded. “The Pygmy population number much too few, Your Majesty. At their current rate of reproduction, it will take decades, if not centuries for Tal Eren to become the jewel of might and wealth we all dream it to be.”
Yong Cai pinched her chin ponderously. “While on the subject of wealth - additional claypits must be prospected. We are certain there are more on the other side of Beihe, perhaps by the tributaries running down great Qiangshan. However, to cross back and forth, with clay no less, we will require ships.”
Qiang Quan crossed his arms over his chest. “His Majesty’s warmasons can lend their hands in such an effort. The lions have moved further into the Knucklelands, and we can safely spare a small number to assist the civilians.”
Yong Cai nodded. “Thank you, warleader. What does His Majesty think?”
The big king rolled one his locks in his hand. ”I can exert some power to boost our numbers. No easy task but it can be done.” he acquiesced, nodding towards no one in particular. ”Can river-worthy vessel built with our current resources?”
“Well, our tools are insufficient to make great vessels, but…” Yong Cai tapped her chin. “I reckon we could get by by tying logs together with vines. We have seen that even great trunks can float on the river during floods - if we were to build a platform of them, we could at least create something that would let us float. Pygmies will need to paddle with their hands for thrust, however.”
”Could they handle the weight of clay and men without capsizing?”
“That will have to be tested,” the master architect responded.
”Do so.”
Yong Cai bowed deeply. “Right away, Your Majesty.” She turned to some servants and delegated the order further. Qiang Quan instructed his own to ready a number of warmasons, too. Zhu Rongyuan approached the king a little closer and bowed.
“Your Majesty, regarding the population numbers…”
”Speak.” he said without looking.
Zhu Rongyuan bowed his head deeper than usual. “His Majesty is of divine blood. In order to truly get His civilisation going, there is an urgent need for additional Pygmies. This servant is much too rude for even considering this question, but… Does His Majesty possibly have a way to bend the rules of nature so that His people may grow to be much more numerous in the near future?”
Golden disks landed on the servant, with neither hostility nor compassion. ”Cherished Zhu, I bend nature to my will, so is my birthright.” Iron-scepter in hand the ape rose. ”To me, we make for the city’s edge.”.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zhu Rongyuan said and followed along after. As did the other three councillors.
As they walked the city's main thoroughfare, Pygmies kowtowed by the tens before their king, it wasn't long at all before the vast stretch of plains opened up before them, only broken in the distance by the farmlands and river.
Anu looked upon the land for a moment, then nodded. With a heave the king raised his ironspike high and drove it into the ground in one smooth motion. It sunk deep, nearly half the thing disappearing into the grass. An instant later the ground began to quake, the earth before them becoming like dough, soft and moldable. From will alone shapes grew rose from the much, all of varying heights and visages, all pygmies. Before long the shaking ceased, and outside the city stood a full cohort of flesh and blood.
The ape heaved a breathe. ”Welcome our new citizens.” he sighed, looking at the council and nodding towards the newborn adults, then padding back down the mainstreet. ”And someone bring my scepter.”
A pygmy servant quickly came over with the Narzhakian scepter. The councillors began to inspect and divide the adults into the Laala and the Ogun castes based on builds. Zhu and Fu took a number for themselves to serve in the Oludari. Zhu then approached the king, bowed and said, “His Majesty has once more proven His divinity. We are eternally blessed to be governed by such a magnificent being.” His watery eyes scanned the crowd. “... Our population has multiplied significantly. This servant will need to assess the contents of the granaries again and recalculate rations…” He eyed Anu with determination burning in his gaze. “This servant recommends the majority go to the farmlands.”
The giant pursed his lips, gazing upon the crowd himself. ”Divide them as you see fit.” he ordered.
“As His Majesty wishes.”
In order to avoid mass starvation, the rations for each pygmy was reduced to little more than the scrapings required to survive. Odd was it not that the overall health and strength of the nation deteriorated somewhat, and some of the older pygmies began to fear a return to the Hard Times - the time before Shengshi had blessed them with food safety. Quickly, a program was initiated at the order of His Majesty - a project that occupied much of his own time with study into his divine power, the abilities of the mansa, and the attributes of his people. Talemon needed workers - even more than they already had. Deep in the recesses of Tal Eren they worked. Mansa; having learned the ways of world-bending by will of word alone thanks to the guidance of the Dragon, constructed spells that warped and twisted natural flesh into something different. Zhu catalogued the working ones into spell lists while Anu and a number of servants took pygmy flesh and his own ichor and joined them together in a basin pit. Deep in the belly of the capital thousands of abominations where sired from the matrimony, beasts without intelligence, monsters with more eyes then teeth and demons with more heads then eyes. All were slain, returned, and reconstituted again until after months of intense labor and bloodletting, progress was made. A hominid, albeit misshapen, was synthesized with the right amount of parts. Unfortunately intelligence wasn’t up to standards. Tweaks were made to the spell list and experimentation went on. With a years work errors were strained from the process until a spell list promising consistency had been synthesised. A template for the most basic of worker, short and stocky with a fur shorter than that of a Pygmy and intelligence affording them the ability to perform any sort of task and a loyalty and obedience so deep self-preservation meant nothing if commanded otherwise. Tests began to be run. Tests Anu meant to see the results of himself.
”Your Majesty.” a pygmy guard said as evening began its descent on the city. The king paid him mind as he crossed the threshold of the temple’s lower levels.
Nowhere near as large as palace, the Temple of Chains the mighty king erected himself was nevertheless great in size. A large plaza open and empty encircled it's centerpiece, a box-like structure of clay and jutting wooden logs, simple and elegant yet a menacing structure in it's own right. Yet the complex only served as crown atop the factory of flesh active below.
Anu moved with a sense of purpose, striding through the main fire-lit corridor large enough to accommodate him comfortably. In his mind’s eye the pit revealed itself, complete with the core serving as the trunk and the main corridors branching off it, beyond the darkened archways of the various secured entrances, as its limbs. There didn't seem to be any reason to why a corridor was placed where it was, or given the length that it had, they just appeared to have sprouted organically off the core as needed, created when the pit was dug from the earth by his divine will. Despite it all, its order was more than clear.
A sudden gust of fetid air swirled up the core from far below and the contingent following Anu found themselves grimacing at the foul smell it carried to their nostrils, the king remained unperturbed moving forward until he was stepping off the final stair onto the packed earth of the core's floor.
Before him sprawled the core, a massive box, with the corridor he was now stepping in, running along its top in the form of a broad walkway that bridged the vast space. A number of guards strode along the walkway, their attention on the space below. That space was further divided into a number of individual chambers, a number of which were pens, regular squares divided from each other by heavy stone walls, with narrow passageways grouping the square pens into blocks of six.
A number of slightly larger pens stood against the far wall, somewhat separated from the rest by both a passageway and a heavy wall. Here magic was at work, a handful of mansa grimly at task creating Ikhobo–the stocky hominds that had been perfected in the last few weeks–from the primordial mixture of flesh and godblood that filled massive pools. Together, they formed a vast grid, regularly patrolled by a dozen guards.
A thin pygmy approached Anu from the catwalk and kowtowed. ”Your Majesty.” she greeted in a soft breath.
”Rise, taskmaster. Has the first batch been prepared?” She did so.
”Yes, your Majesty. Please follow me.” Quickly she set off across the main walkway and into another entrance that's wound down into a great room were an entire cohort of Ikhobo stood stark naked. Zhu was already there, inspecting them himself.
“Ah, Your Majesty,” the councillor said with a deep bow. “Come, come - these servants are certain His Majesty will find the result to be exquisite.” He gestured to the cohort.
Hands behind his back, the big king strode down the line, his eyes critical as he examined the new slaves. Hands clasped at their front, heads thrown back proudly, and their legs separated in parade stance, the Ikhobo were imposing creatures, ready to serve in any capacity.
”Do they meet your approval, Your Majesty.” the taskmaster inquired.
The ape grunted. ”Marginally.” he replied, gazing back down the like. ”How quickly are the pits working now?”
”At full-capacity, Your Majesty. We should have a second cohort by morning.”
Anu nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. ”What say you, Zhu? Are they to standard?”
“We tested them in the clay pits yesterday. They are perhaps a little slow to adapt to new situations - we had one be crushed underneath a rockslide and it took a considerable time before the others elected to aid it. However, there is no doubt as to how capable they are as labourers.”
”Maybe some added intelligence would do them good. But as long as they do their job, little else matters.”
“Intelligence may be added later. For now, this cohort will be shipped across the river to work.”
”So be it.” the ape agreed and nodded towards the taskmaster.
She kowtowed. ”At once, Your Majesty.” Immediately she and a cadre of guards went marching the Ikhobo out of the hall.
”Might we set on the first set of deviations?” he huffed, glancing at his councilman.
“Our attempts to alter the template have been,” Zhu drew a shameful breath, “most unsuccessful so far. Beyond the simple ikhobo, any immediate deviations have resulted in grotesque, misshapen creations. This servant’s afraid more research is required.”
Anu guffed, his laugh like crashing waves. ”Failure is only a stepping stone, as long as you don't die, it is just another step. Come, we begin immediately.”
While Anu and Zhu dedicated themselves to research, Yong Cai and Qiang Quan were experimenting with rafts along the banks of Beihe.
In the beginning, these were little more than pygmies clambering to trunks and doing their best to paddle across the river. Needless to say, this did not work. The next project involved tying together trunks using jungle vines. This worked better - at least it floated - but still it required one or two pygmies to push it from behind in order to gather thrust. By the end of the year, rafts sizeable enough to carry up to three pygmies with two more doing the paddling had been constructed. These began to bring workers over to the other bank of Beihe. Slowly, but surely, adequately numbrous worker teams began to gather on the bank, using sticks and stones to sample and prospect the mud. Upon inspection, Yong Cai found that it was of quite good quality, much like the clay on the opposite bank.
“Set up camp and start transporting clay back across. Oh, and tell those on the opposite bank to keep improving the rafts. I will not have any of that precious clay lost into Beihe, is that clear?”
“Yes, Master Architect!” the elected foreman answered and went on to bark orders at the rest. Soon enough, lay-tos were erected against the many trees, and a simple perimetre was set by the warriors guided by Qiang Quan. The jungle along the bank was, much in the same way as the clay, similar to its cousin on the opposite side of the river. However, as the warriors noted, the air felt different - wilder, savager. A faint tinge of sulphur clung to the air, and from the mountains far to the north, occasional beastly echoes rung out through the aether.
Still, though, the clay made its way back to the city without too many issues beyond the occasional sinking. After a while, the clay pits moved further and further north, until they reached the Qiangshan tributaries. In the fourth year, it was there the Talemonese fate was forever altered.
Yong Cai had just gotten back to the new claypit camps after a quick retreat to the capitol when one of the workers came running up to her and bowed.
“Master architect! We have uncovered a strange, green stone in the rock by the mountain!”
Yong Cai blinked. “A green stone? That doesn’t sound like clay at all. What are you doing up in the mountains?”
The worker straightened herself back up. “This one and some others went to prospect higher up along the tributaries - the clay there is odd, and the water blinks at us when we stare into it. Up there, we found this green stone.”
Yong Cai furrowed her brow. “Is it jade?”
“What is jade, Master Architect?” the worker inquired.
“Nevermind,” Yong Cai replied and cleared her throat. “Bring this servant to it - and have the warleader dispatch a small warband to escort us.”
“Right away, Master Architect,” said the worker dutifully and jogged off into the camps. Yong Cai pinched her chin in thought as she tried to align the description of ‘green stone’ with anything she had previously heard of. However, nothing she had observed aboard Jiangzhou, with the except of jade and emeralds, matched such a description. As their escort came and they moved towards the area in question, she pondered all the while at the nature of this material.
The journey to this the pit in question was long - so long that Yong Cai doubted that it was particularly effective. It took them a day and a half to reach the beginning of the hills, but upon discovering what the pygmies had found in those prospection pits, Yong Cai took back all her doubts.
“Send for more workers immediately, and begin hacking this stone apart.”
The pygmies got to work, but their leader approached Yong Cai with a curious look. “With all due respect, Master Architect, what is it that has been found here?”
The master builder scooped into her hand a number of small green specks from the sandy clay at her feet through which could be spotted additional stripes of the same jade colour. A smile formed on her lips. “This colour matches that of His Lordship’s tripod pots if they sit too long without proper maintenance.” She pocketed the grains. “What we have found, worker, is copper.”
The city was abuzz as the first coffers of green and red stones were brought to the palace in clay basins carried between two and two. Yong Cai spear-headed the group and entered the palace, kneeling down before her king.
“Great Majesty, this servant has brought to You a gift from the mountain.”
The demigod readjusted himself in his throne to face the servant, passively signaling the cadre of administrators to kowtow and disperse. ”A gift? Present it, cherished Yong.”
The clay tray was brought before the great ape, presenting for him a pile of green and brown chunks embedded in cruder stone. Yong Cai picked one up and offered it to the king. “There is no doubt, Your Majesty - this is copper, a metal. If worked, we can finally replace our stone and wood-tipped spears with sensible weaponry; our crude and lowly stone tools with those forged through flame.”
”Copper.” Anu repeated, taking the ore and lifting it too the light. ”How quickly can we implement it.”
“We have already begun research into harnessing its power. As we speak, the draft kilns are being used to test the melting point of this metal. Within a month, we should be able to work it.”
Nodding he handed the ore back to the councilmen. ”Good, I want the Ogun outfitted as soon as possible. Good work.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
The sixth year had come around, and Zhu Rongyuan officially declared the rations were to return to normal. The farmlands had been expanded to account for the enormous population growth three years ago, and now they could finally provide for the people the amount of food they were due. As a result, the population growth broke out of stagnation and production skyrocketed. Copper was brought across Beihe to Tal Eren in great loads. The rafts had improved considerably over the last three years, too; instead of needing pygmies to physically push them in the water, the sailors instead used long sticks to serve as oars, but had to push the rafts themselves once they reached deeper waters where the oars didn’t reach the bottom. As a result, however, the industrial districts’ productivity had bloomed. The Talemonese forces were outfitted with copper-tipped weaponry. The once-humble camp on the opposite bank of Beihe had become its own establishment, complete with farms, worker barracks and more. Additionally, new buildings were constructed which offered commodity goods in exchange for certain salary chips. For good work, Pygmies could now earn clothing chips, weapon chips, animal chips and jewelry chips - all of which could be traded in at the state storage houses in exchange for the respective goods. Anu and the Council had researched new methods of using animal skins and plant fibers to make clothing, and now the Pygmies wore woven clothing. Great scarfs and blankets with beautiful patterns donned everyone in Tal Eren. Anu had sent his councillors out in search of something to break the monotony of the plant fiber colour, and with the demigod’s help, they had found it: Crushing all manner of fruits, plants and insects and mixing them out with animal pee, the fabrics took on a myriad of colours which lasted for years. The weaving skills began to share more and more intricate patterns, many of which denoted great deeds, feats and honours granted to the individuals, in addition to patterns denoting profession and caste. Those who lived closer to the warm north and the jungles switched the blankets for loincloths and instead cut their accomplishments into their skin as beautiful scars. However, the Pygmies were not limited anymore to just beautiful clothing:
About two years ago, the copper diggers had discovered that the glistening rivers the rumours had spoken so fondly about were actually full of a golden substance - one the colour of their king’s eyes. Naturally, this material was gathered and presented before the great ape. Shortly thereafter, it was declared a sacred metal, to be held in highest regard. Some was shaped into jewelry, but most importantly, all of it was hoarded.
That was until a small scouting band came to the palace of Tal Eren one day and knelt before their king.
“Your Majesty,” said their leader, the one known as Okonkwo. He had been tasked with setting up a forward stronghold to the east and secure Giant’s Bath as a safe and sacred religious hub for the Talemonese empire.
The big king set aside his stack of reports but didn’t look up from them. ”Yes?” he grunted in response.
“These ones bring news His Majesty has awaited: Other creatures - similar to us - roam this continent. Far to the east, there exist giants like stars and monsters of flame.”
This caught the ape’s attention. ”Others? Has contact been established?”
Okonkwo nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty, although the monster of flame seem unwilling to maintain it. They are savage and wild - unfit for prosperous relations. The starborn, however… These ones understood not their language, but it was clear from the way they eyed this one’s medallion,” Okonkwo held forth the gold disc around his neck, which was the mark of an officer of the Ogun, “that they have an eye for His Majesty’s holy tears.”
”A greedy lot.” Anu surmised. ”Shore up a defense against these demons of fire, I am unsure of our forced capabilities against them just yet. Alert the Siwen to their presence as well, as well as these starborn and their interest in the tears.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Okonkwo boomed and him and his followers saluted the king. A day or so later, they had gathered Qiang Quan, thirty warriors, eight warmasons and two mansa. Together, they spent the next month or so travelling to the Giant’s Bath with a small pot of gold and enough weapons to defend a small perimetre. There, they sat up a small camp and sent out scouts every night to look for the monsters of flame. In that same manner, they sent emissaries to the starborn strangers carrying gold. The emissaries inspected what the Nebulites had to offer in return.
However, very little of it actually seemed appealing to the Pygmies: all they had were exotic animals and stone carvings - nothing that could match the beauty of Anu’s tears. The emissaries returned to the camp with disappointing news every day - whatever the strangers had to offer, it paled in comparison to what the Pygmies already had. That was until the strangers one day after many weeks came offering one of their own to the expedition’s commanding officer.
“No, I will not take her. As His Majesty’s advisor, this servant has no time for galbarian pleasures,” Qiang Quan said with the shake of his head. The strangers had been brought to the camp to display their gift, but the warleader seemed uninterested. “Although,” he suddenly said and looked at Okonkwo, “if this servant’s lieutenant would like this gift, he shall have it.”
Okonkwo blinked and stepped over to inspect the strangers’ gift closer. She was shorter than her peers, though still at least as tall as Okonkwo was. Her shape was lean, soft, frail - it was evident that she had never worked a day in her life. However, that weakness was made up for with the most captivating beauty the Pygmy had ever seen. He reached out to touch her face. The girl looked away a little before the two locked eyes. Okonkwo was already married to another, but this… This was too good an offer to pass up. This would be his claim to greatness.
“She satisfies this one. What do you reckon she is worth?”
The others shrugged. Qiang Quan tugged at his sandy chin. “A fistful of tears, perhaps?”
“A whole fist, huh?” Okonkwo mumbled and ran his eyes up and down the girl again. “... Then I hope she won’t run away in the night. Do it.”
One of the emissaries bowed, unlidded the pot of gold in her hands and scooped from it a fistful of gold chunks and nuggets. The strangers who accepted it looked almost enchanted by its sheen and colour. They said something in their odd tongue, bowed and left the camp alongside the emissaries and some guards. The girl remained, looking rather much like a diamond among coal chunks, there where she was surrounded by Pygmies. She was examined thoroughly, the extent of the tests strangely seeming not to bother her. In fact, it was as if she had been well prepared for this whole ordeal, and while she appeared to be a little shy, it was suppressed by evident training.
The Pygmies marveled, and more than a few began to dream of the possibilities of owning one for themselves. Perhaps, if these strangers could be persuaded to trade more for a few extra tears…
Following that first transaction, the trade between the two blossomed. Gold trickled down the Natal from the Giant’s Bath, and Nebulite concubines were shipped along Beihe back to Talemon. Soon, these were distributed to the members of the Oludari, as motivation and reward for their work within city and labour management. To contain this growing enthusiasm for trade, the humble outpost at the Giant’s Bath was expanded with permanent storage houses, defensive ditches, local clay kilns and pits, farms, and an expanded garrison. Along the river Beihe and the increasingly clearer path through the savannah and the jungles, simple waystations were set up to save the traders the need to bring a load of supplies every time. In the beginning, these were sparse and meagre - having to produce their own food which they then had to give to the traders; however, as time passed and new systems were put in place, the larger waystations were also supplied by independent caravans from the capital. These brought grain, fish and the all new animal products of the savannah and the jungle: With Anu’s aid, the pygmies had learned to domesticate the continent’s boars, jungle’s water buffalo and the savannah’s horse. All these produced milk, meat and hides for the Pygmies, and this produce was refined into products.
Soon, the trade post at the Giant’s Bath, named Biashara, grew from a couple of tents into a bustling marketplace where auctions for Nebulite concubines were held daily. Talemonese leather, gold and pottery were exchanged for the most beautiful and handsome individuals the southern power had to offer, and the Nebulites took it all ravenously. However, merely after two years of this exchange, the heads of Tal Eren concluded that the Pygmy empire shouldn’t give away their gold so cheaply. So, little by little, they choked the stream until no more gold passed through Biashara. This devastated the local businesses, as the other products have always been bought in addition to gold - never by themselves. Furthermore, back in their far off home, the Nebulites had learned to work clay into pottery by copying the Pygmies, so there was no longer any reason to buy it.
No matter how hard the Pygmies tried, no Nebulite slaver would sell them concubines for meagre leather goods. It was as if the tables were about to turn on who had the upper hand in this trade agreement.
That was until there appeared a new commodity in Biashara, one which could match the Nebulite concubines in value and could be mass produced back in Talemon: the Ikhobo.
At first, the Nebulites seemed skeptical. They, too, already had slaves, but the limited lingual exchange between the Pygmies and the starborn revealed that they were quite unsatisfied with the Dari overall - they were slow to breed, prone to revolt and expensive to feed. As it turned out, the Ikhobo provided a fantastic alternative, especially now that a large workforce was needed promptly to finish this mysterious building project they always went on and on about. As such, the concubines were bought in exchange for ikhobo slaves.
These slaves dominated the market, their stocky build, thoroughbred loyalty and augmented endurance proved to be more than attractive to the starborn. These models were outdated in Talemon and fazed out for a more efficient agricultural model known as the Ikhobo-Mde or the Growers. These slaves vastly outclassed the previous during testing, their greater height dwarfing that of a Pygmy and additional arms improved field work efficiency almost tenfold. These models were quickly mass-produced while the Ikhobo where sold or entered the construction sector.
Thankfully, none of that was shared with the Nebulites. Guile in face of the Other, after all - to know the Pygmies were selling them outdated slaves nearing the end half of their lifespans was sure to sour their moods. Biashara flourished and became the second largest town after the great Tal Eren.
Back home in the capitol, the population was further booming. The Pygmies, growth stunted for five years after their population had been quadrupled, would be held back no more. Children had been born by the tens to several families - the agricultural sector would have long since collapsed without the aid of the Ikhobo-Mde. The children that were old enough were taken from their families and sent to study under artisans, builders, bureaucrats or warriors. Some were sent to Biashara to become diplomats to the starborn; some were sent to the jungles to the south to herd water buffalo; some were sent to Qiangshan to work in the mines; some were sent out into the plains to chase the wildebeest.
At the dawn of the tenth year came Qiang Quan into Anu’s palace. He carried with him a long object, one wrapped in beautiful leathers as if meant as a gift. He lowered himself to his knees before the throne and spoke, “Great king - great news have been brought from Biashara!”
The big king lifted his bulk out of his seat and placed a calloused hand on the tanned skin, admiring the work before gingerly unwrapping the thing. ”Do tell.” he intoned with a hint of wonderment.
Within the leather laid a halberd the colour of the night sky, speckled with starry dots that seemed to move every so slightly on their own. It was as if the weapon was a reflection of the heavens in the evening. Perfectly balanced and sized for the massive ape, he it wielded deftly with a few test swings far out of the servant’s way. ”A beautiful weapon, truly. Where did you procure such craftsmanship?”
Zhu smiled and bowed his head. “It was given to Fu Lai’an in Biashara - a result of the greed-consumed starborn’s desperation.” The old servant looked back up. “This was given in exchange for a mere palmful of His Majesty’s tears. According to our translators, it was forged using the life essence of one of their own.”
”A life for a mere handful of gold? We could outfit an entire warband with a boar’s stomach.” he thought aloud.
Zhu nodded, then frowned. “This servant doubts it was procured legally, however; the seller reportedly appeared agitated, and was very clear to the diplomats that the transaction was supposed to be unofficial, and left out of the records.”
Anu’s raised a brow. ”Seems like an affirmable business venture. It must be of great value to require such secrecy, mind the cost just to forge it.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty. We estimate that this style of weaponforging vastly outperforms anything we currently made and can make within a reasonable future.” Zhu shook his head. “How they turn the life force of their own into these weapons is unknown, however.”
”For right now I see no reason for us too, as long as the arms flow I ask no questions.” he finished as he marveled at the detail. ”What to call it.” He murmured.
“Has His Majesty any suggestions?”
”I find my skill in naming things quiet lacking.” he said before pausing to stare into the weapon, almost looking for a name within its inky blackness. ”Hew, perhaps. Or might that not be lacking for a king’s blade? Blackbane maybe? Bah.”
“May this servant suggest the name ‘Skyscythe’?” Zhu asked politely.
Anu stamped the end on the ground causing a thump to reverberate throughout the throne room. ”Skyscythe! So it shall be!” he announced.
Zhu nodded proudly. “A glorious blade for a glorious king, Your Majesty. This servant will see to it that whatever more are offered by the greedy starborn, will be bought.” Zhu tugged on his beard. “One more thing, Your Majesty - the mansa school and the department of war have both been set up in the royal barracks. The Golden Horde will soon be ready for battle.”
The ape held out the halberd for two guards to struggle and hold aloft as he rose and padded down the dias. ”Good to hear. The sooner they begin functioning the sooner order can asserted over this wild rock.” he said as he passed Zhu. ”I want Tal Eren functioning as smoothly and as efficiently as possible, we are setting the example the world will follow.”
“All of Galbar will be at His Majesty’s feet in time. Now, next on the agenda--”
A commotion down the hall silenced Zhu and the two turned to face a Pygmy approaching in a great hurry, tailed by sprinting guards. “YOUR MAJESTY!” called the Pygmy before she was tripped to the floor by a guard and pinned down by a myriad of spears. “Your Majesty!” she called again, desperate inhales cutting apart her words.
”Peace, daughter, peace.” he soothed, placing a gentle finger on her shoulder. ”Speak with sense.”
“Your Majesty, this--!” She drew another breath. “This one comes from the western knucklelands! Our village, it was, it was crushed! Swarmed! Leveled! My family, my, my--” She broke into tears.
The massive demigod was silent, his lips pressed in a hardline as the vestiges of understanding dawned upon him. ”By what.” he said steadily, his voice like boulders rolling down the mountainside.
“The-they were… They were like monsters! Hundreds of them! We, we ran without looking back! Oh, great king, the horror!”
Anu ushered a set of guards to him. ”Shhh, my daughter. You are safe.” he cooed, taking her in his arms.
”Your Majesty!” the pygmies barked in unison, kowtowing low. The muffled cries of the horrified woman became audible as he released her from his grasp. ”You have done Talemon a great service today. Mourn the lost, then rally with your people. Talemon returns injury for injury, and she never forgets.”
YEAR 1: Opens up with the reciting of the Mėta of the religio-philosophical doctrine known as the World Pillars. It serves not only to guide the people of Talemon but also structure them, putting in place and caste system not based on class, but on skill and ability. Social reforms and government centralization takes place, although this is not without protest and quickly suppressed. After a time Anu is encouraged to boost population numbers and so he does, quadrupling the total. Heavy rationing is imposed as a result.
YEAR 2-5: During this heavy rationing known as the Hard Times, Anu creates the Temple of Chains, a complex dedicated to his endeavors to improve the Talemonese way of life. With the help of mansa who have created a flesh manipulation/incantation based style of mana, as well with Zhu’s guidance, prototypes in a slave race are created. Eventually the first of the ikhobo are created and eventually mass produced in pits under the House of Chains. Later on Yong Cai and Qiang Quan manage to pioneer raftcraft and discover copper in the Qiangshan, quickly presenting it to Anu who decrees that the warbands be outfitted.
YEAR 6: In the 6 year contact with the Nebulites is established. They are attracted to Talemonese gold, which was discovered in the past and is a sacred metal to the people. Okonkwo takes a nebulite as a concubine thus a trade begins in the lane. A trade post at the Giants Bath called Biashara starts to grow. Eventually Talemon shuts down the gold trade and begins trading in slaves. A new slave model was created in Talemon, perfect for the rice fields, so the older slave models are sold off for concubines.
YEAR 10: After a period of growth and advancement Anu is approached by his council with a gift, a smuggled Twilight Forged Halberd he calls Skyscythe. He wishes for his personal warband the ‘Golden Horde’ to be outfitted. More are to be smuggled with time. Suddenly and Pygmy rushes in warning of an attack from the east, and Anu readies Talemon for war against an unknown threat.
Anu start: 4MP/8FP 1MP: Quadruple the Pygmies from 200 to 800. 2FP: Set up the Temple of Chains monument: This building produces infertile pygmy slaves called ikhobo at the rate of fifty individuals per month. It is maintained and worked with mana, and skilled mansa can use mana to alter the slaves’ qualities, be that tall and mighty or slim and quick. At most, a slave may live up to ten years. They eat and sleep like normal. 1FP: Teach the Pygmies tailoring and weaving. 1FP: Teach the Pygmies leatherworking and tanning. 1FP: Teach the Pygmies to dye fabrics using colour from berries, fruits, insects and so on. 1FP: Teach the Pygmies animal domestication. 2FP: Establish the holy order The Golden Horde, a warband of elite warriors specialising in mana-infused weaponry and using mounts and animals in combat. More to come regarding them.
End: 3MP/0FP
The King’s Council, Siwen: Start 10 +1 minor role +1 major role +1 funtime with friends -6 teach Pygmies to metalcraft. -6 teach Pygmies weaponsmithing (specifically spears, dagger-axes and daggers. End 1.
Rog-mohog gave his hut a proud, fatherly pat. Even though he hadn’t built it, his authority had directly caused its inception and creation. He never planted the seed, but this tree stood because of him, and he wondered for a moment why his thoughts had drifted to trees. Trees… Leaves… Branches… Branches are made of wood… Wood is a building material… Ogres use wood to make stuff; ‘stuff’ is part of a category of words that describe unspecified items generalised into a single group… Within this group is furniture.
Rog-mohog peeked in through the tent flaps. It was empty, save for a boring mat of goat fur. He hummed. A proper chief needed a fancy chair - one like the Ancestor Spirits described and constantly, smugly teased him for not having. Even now, Rog-mohog could hear the distant snickers of his father Mohog mocking him for not owning a fancy chair.
This would end today.
“MASTA BUILDAS!” he thundered. Nothing happened. He groaned and boomed again, “MASTA BUILDAS!”
A familiar collection of shabby workers wielding rocks for tools slumped up to the chief’s tent. The leader of the workforce, the esteemed Slamjam, snorted out a booger the size of a pebble and grunted. “Wossit, boss?”
Rog-mohog pulled aside the tent flap and pointed inside. “Wot you see in there?”
The master builders crowded the entrance as they looked inside. Polite hums buzzed between them as they tried to think of the answer. “Boss’s sleepin’ furs?”
“Besides that.”
“Oh, uh… Noffin’.”
“Da’s roight, ye gits. Wot kinda chief got noffin’ inside his hut?”
“Well, plenty, actually. Up-slup da Big was known for ‘avin’--”
Rog-mohog sent the protestor flying down the hill. The other builders gulped. “Up-slup was a bloomin’ git! Ancestor spirit says that daily!”
There came nods of agreement. “So, wot you want us buildin’, boss?”
“Build me a fancy chair. A real fancy one - none’a that not-fancy-chair-business.”
The builders huddled together and whispered in the way one does when one wants to be very obvious about laying a plan. After thirty seconds, they broke apart again and Slamjam nodded at the chief. “Roight, boss. We got it. Gunna makes you a fancy chair.”
“Very good,” Rog-mohog praised and waved them off. As the builders slumped back down the hill and collected their companion along the way, the tribe shaman Wololo peeked out from behind the tent with the quickness of pitch.
“Boss, ‘ave you got a moment?”
Rog-mohog grunted. “Aye, wot you needin’, Wololo?”
“‘S about time to read the five spirits again.”
Rog-mohog groaned. “Wot, again? Didn’t we just do it?”
“Is a yearly fhing, boss. Been ‘xactly one year.”
“Issat so? Well, noffin’ to do but do it, then. Wot we needin’?”
“The usual - a boar bone plate, a dog toof, an owl feavva’, the foot o’va dead ogre ‘n some fresh moss.”
“It gotta be fresh? There isn’t any moss around ‘ere,” Rog-mohog complained.
“Gotta be fresh,” Wololo insisted. “Try checkin’ around Big Rock. Might be a cave or somethin’ with some shade ‘n moss.”
Rog-mohog frowned in a surly manner before eventually nodding. “Roight, got it. It’ll be ready by tomorrow.”
“Readin’ the spirits is important for knowin’ what comes, chief. This’ll be good for us.”
“Mhm.”
Somewhere far to the west…
"So, whoss we gonna do with this'un?" Crunch mumbled out loud as he dangled the gnome by the collar. "Y'fhink it's tasty?"
"Not as tasty as a slice'a bacon roight about now," Snaglag muttered as she picked her teeth with a stray metal pipe.
"Oi, don'chu like mutton better than pork? Ye call yeself a goatie?"
"Who you callin' a goatie?!" Snaglag spat back and shook her fist menacingly. Crunch frowned curiously back.
"You're not a goatie?"
"'Course I not! I'm a ogre!" She stomped off angrily.
Crunch's mouth flattened out until it had about the same appearance as his bushy unibrow and his eyes shifted back to the gnome in his hands. "We're surrounded by gits, isn't we, lil' gnome?"
"Surrounded by what now?" the gnome choked out despite his collar being accidentally clenched so tight that he could barely breathe. "I demand that you release me at once!"
Crunch gave him a hard, pensive stare. "You sure talk a bunch fo' such a lil' fhingy. Is you some kind'a dog, per'aps?"
The gnome's face was turning about as red as that funny cap on his head, and not just from embarrassment at the conundrum he found himself in--oxygen deprivation seemed to be an equally important factor. His tiny hand tried in vain to wrap around two of the ogre's fat, sausage-like fingers to pry them off.
Not understanding the very evident biological signals portrayed by the gnome, Crunch gave the futile effort a confused frown. "Oh, lil' gnome, didn' ye parunts ever teach ya that big boys make short work'a small boys, 'n that it don't work the ovva' way?" He suddenly got a thousand yard stare. "Mine did... Mine sure did... That bloomin' git Nathan in the neighbour hut nevah left me alone... Oi, why's you coughin'? Is you sick?"
"Can't...breath!"
"Wot ye mean 'can't brief'? You insultin' my skill at shortenin' stories for the sake of convenience and understandin'?"
The gnome went limp and further responses were not forthcoming.
"Huh. 'S wot I thought." Crunch dropped the gnome to the ground (where it promptly crumpled and stayed) and began poking about in a nearby junkpile. "You don't just say mean fhings like that 'n don't expect anyfhin' to come back at ya. If ye can't accept tha', then I'mma just smoosh ya."
The lack of response from the gnome caused the ogre to look over his shoulder again. "Wot, ye sleepin' now? Oi, don't you ignore me. Wot do you even know about me, huh?"
Nothing, saith the body. Crunch scoffed.
"Bet you was jus' a small humie after all." He plucked a sharp iron rod from the scrap pile. "Oi, Snaglag!"
A moment passed before the ogress peeked over from behind a wrecked balloon frame. "Yeah?"
"'Ave the gits grab as much'a this..." He slammed the iron rod against a nearby rock with enough strength to dent and bent it - however, to his surprise, it didn't break. "... This 'ard sticks as they can."
Snaglag uncovered her ears reluctantly. "Wot was that?"
"'Ave the gits grab sticks like this'un. Owl Spirit's telling ol' Crunchy that this'll be a nice fhingy to shank with."
Snaglag pursed her lips and furrowed her unibrow. "... Issat so..." She pulled a crooked iron pipe out of the wreckage and pressed it against her palm. It drew a few droplets of blood and she sucked in a pained breath. "Owie! Crunch, I cut myself!"
Crunch frowned back in concern. "You ever wonder if ogres was meant to survive past teenhood?"
"Wossat?"
"Noffin'. Let's get to it."
A moment later, the ogres had grabbed whatever iron splints, rods and pipes they could and hoarded them in sacks fashioned from ripped balloon hides. Gathering up curious stragglers, the ogres eventually began to make their way homewards. However, Crunch was stopped in his tracks by one of his fellow Boar Clan ogres. He drew a long sigh.
"Wot is it, Digganob?"
"Boss, is just, uh... Didn't that gnome say there was more of 'em about?"
Crunch eyed the gnome carcass in his hand. His intention was to bring it home and give it to his kids, but the thought of bringing back even more tickled his fancy quite seductively. "Aye, he did say that... Oi, Digganob, you got kids?"
"Sure do, boss."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh. Woss their names?"
"Gob, Rob, Nob 'n Elizabeff, 'course."
Crunch nodded. "Wot would you say to bringin' home one'a these for 'em to play with?" He shook the gnome corpse teasingly until it started making broken bone sounds. Digganob clapped excitedly.
"Oh, that'd make 'um really happy, boss! But, where'll I find 'um?"
Crunch sniffed and looked around. "Uh... Try stayin' in the ruins. Take about, uh, half of us 'n just see wot you can find. Just remember not to snack on 'em."
"They any tasty?"
Crunch shrugged. Digganob hummed pensively.
"I will--"
"Don't try it."
"--not eat any."
Crunch nodded again - approvingly, this time. "Good. Bring 'em home - alive, if ye can. Kids love it when their toys move on their own."
Digganob saluted clumsily. "Roight, boss," he said and strolled off, herding together about half of the war party. Crunch, Snaglag and the rest strolled on back towards the camp, happily carrying lots of iron, some balloon hides and one very brutalised gnome.
They walked back through a forest that seemed conspicuously lacking in birds, with the few ones around seeming skittish and shy about singing their songs. Indeed, Glough's war upon them was already starting to have some noticeable effects. The ogres tromped along in a generally westward direction, oblivious to the warning signs and telltale demonstrations of gnomish might. There were no more of the tiny creatures to be seen, even past the wreckage where they'd salvaged the iron rods, and they started to grow bored and disappointed. But then, just as some were beginning to contemplate turning around or having their thoughts stray to dinner, they heard a strange sound--it was some sort of high-pitched wailing, coming from a copse of trees up ahead. Digganob gave the trees a suspicious glare, his lazy eye dangling in his left socket.
"Oi, Brutus, check that out." A massive hunk of ogre lumbered its way past Digganob, an oak sapling in his hand. His torso caused windshear as it swung from side to side with every earth-shaking step. He squinted, and his miniscule eyes tried their best to see past a small forest of eyebrows onto whatever was hiding in the trees.
There was a small splotch of red visible through the leaves, its stark contrast letting it stand out even to the beady eyes of the ogre as he stomped forward.
"WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!" Treecog shrieked out to the bristly pine in front of him, the only thing that would listen. He was so consumed by grief at his having been exiled a few hours ago that he didn't even notice Brutus until the ogre came close enough for him to smell (which was admittedly still a decent ways away, such was his reek!) at which point he turned about and started. With a yelp, the gnome instinctively ducked around to the other side of the tree to hide.
Brutus' nose was in contrast much more accustomed to the indescribable stench of its owner - learning through abuse was a tried and tested ogre strategy, after all. As such, it effortlessly picked up that something was not quite right - or rather, it was right in the sense that it picked up the scent of the exact creature they were after. The faint cologne of mustache wax was unmistakable, mostly because it was utterly foreign to him, like any other cosmetic or hygienic ointment. With limbs like logs, he reached around the poor pine and mumbled, "Oi, I smell you, y'li'uhl..."
As the great, thundering beast approached, a thousand things went through Treecog's genius mind. There was the Director's words, the fate he'd been sentenced, "Enjoy living off the land and among all the nasty wildlife and local animals, you sub-gnomish cretin!" Indeed, a small part of his mind considered the idea of trying not to resort to flight or flight when confronted by these beasts, but to attempt to set them at ease and live among them, making of his life the new goal of domesticating, training, and ultimately dominating the giants through sheer wits and gnomish ingenuity. These creatures were huge, so it was obvious that they were score quite lowly on the Zekel-Voight-Greasegear; they were probably somewhere between a small dog and a crafty kobold in terms of intelligence...
But they were huge! And smelly! And scary! Those smaller, woolly creatures that had marched into the Crash Site seemed much likelier candidates for cohabitation, and honestly, he'd already come to the half-baked idea of looping around the Crash Site so as to find those so-called 'dwarves' on their way back to wherever they came from...assuming that Glough and the animal trainers even allowed those dwarves to leave on their own.
In the end, shot nerves won out over the appeal of surrender, or of a challenge, or whatever madness whispered for him to do anything save run or hide. The inventor still had a sharp wit about him! He reached up, feeling at the stupid red hat on his head. He was surprised that they hadn't confiscated that upon revoking his party membership, but then again, that wasn't really a symbol of authority or belonging. It was just extremely fashionable. But what had fashion ever done for him? And what had the Red Cap Party done either, for that matter? The hat meant nothing! He tore it off his head and placed it atop a gnarled root sticking out of the ground a few feet away, then scrambled into a nearby pile of pine needles. By the time that Brutus' hands came groping around the other side of the tree, Treecog was already hidden. At least, he hoped so.
Eventually, Brutus' bratwurst fingers felt something soft. With a dumb smile, the fingers clasped around the item - only to find disappointedly that there was no sensation of breaking bones or dying squeals. He pulled the cloth shrapnel to his beaten nose and took a deep wiff, sucking in a number of red scraps. His nose wrinkled as if he was about to sneeze, but he was left grimacing. With a hum that sent tremors through the ground, he turned. This piece of filt had indeed expelled the scent he had picked up before, and no one would willingly tear up such a fancy hat just to run away - of course not. It was a really fancy hat - like, really fancy. He eyed the remains in his hand with pursed, pensive lips. Half of it was salvageable, so he put it on the small vulcano of black hair erupting from his shrunken skull. He didn't have a lake to mirror himself in, but he was certain he looked swell. He spun on his heel, leaving a small crater, and lumbered back to the group.
As he heard the ogre go stomping back the other way, Treecog let out a barely audible sigh of relief. He'd been holding his breath that whole time! But then cold panic crept into his veins--would the beast have heard him?! Hopefully the cracking twigs and pine needles beneath its feet, combined with its laborious breathing, overpowered the sound of his exhalation. The fading sounds of minor earthquakes hinted that the ogre was either too deaf or too simple to have made the connection between a distant gasp and the fact that someone may have been hiding.
Brutus returned to the other ogres, a grin still about his face on account of the hat. Digganob eyed him curiously. "Oi, Brutus, did you find anyfhin'?"
Brutus put two colossal hands over his head. "... No." Digganob's eyes hardened.
"So there really was noffin', huh?"
"No."
"Noffin' at all."
"Nuh-uh."
"No birds?"
"Nah."
"No pigs?"
"Nope."
"No gnomes."
"Noffin'."
Digganob muttered to himself. Another voice came up behind him. "Oi, wossat you coverin' on your head, Brutus?!"
"Is noffin," Brutus mumbled back.
"You hidin' somefhin'?"
"No."
"Boss, he's hidin' somefhin'," said the ogre and stomped over to remove Brutus' hands from his head. Before anyone could stop him, Brutus had already removed one hand, fastened it around the assailant's neck and tossed him to the ground. Digganob frowned.
Treecog, meanwhile, had been listening in silence. So the monsters were going to stay for the entire night, which meant that he too would have to stay for the entire night beneath a pile of itchy pine needles, lest he risk getting caught if he tried to break a run for it. The realization was degrading and humiliating, but not so much as what would happen if they found him and tried to use him as some sort of chew toy...
D) Rog-mohog has the master builders make him a fancy chair because he is boss. F) Half of the exploring ogres are bringing back iron pipes and leather from the balloon crash site. X) The ogres are starting to prepare for the yearly Spirit Reading event... X) The other half of the exploring ogres keeps exploring...
Eamhair kept her head low in the shrubberies. She had been jogging for hours now, chasing the beast. She heard its panting a shallow distance away, the rustling in the grass as it laid down to rest. She did her best to steady her own breathing - she was far from equally fast, but her endurance outshone this beast hundredfold. Still, she couldn’t be too careful - the beast no doubt had some energy left, and her aching belly told her that she couldn’t very well afford to spend her own reserves so frivolously. With a swift, silent hand, she took a fist-sized rock in her hand and cupped it into her sling. One well-placed hit should do it - a surprising daze to knock it out cold while she cuts into its heart with her stone knife. She assumed her stance and began winding up the sling.
“YAAAAAARGH!” came a scream from the opposite side of the beast and out the bushes burst her sister Caitir with an enormous wooden trunk in her hand. The beast squealed and scrambled to its feet. Eamhair drew a surprised breath and, thinking quickly, sent the rock flying. However, due to her sister’s distraction, the stone clapped against the beast’s thigh and accomplished little more than a pained roar before it huddled off. Caitir chased it away from the clearing before throwing the stick to the ground in frustration.
“Oh, wolf doo! It got away--ow!” Caitir looked over her shoulder to frown at the glare of Eamhair, who smacked her over the head again.
“You dumb, useless idiot! I was -just- about to knock it out! Why did you just run at it, huh? Where’s your sling?!”
Caitir blocked a third incoming blow. “I lost it, okay?! You were running so fast and I fell and, and then I dropped it, and I called out, but you just kept running, and--”
“Okay, shut up!” Eamhair pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ugh… Now what… Did you see where it went?”
“How could I have seen where it went with you nagging me all like--”
“Caitir, focus! Did it leave any tracks?” The two stared down at the ground. A trail of kicked-up dirt and half-recognisable tracks led into some nearby bushes - the very same bushes were ripped and broken.
“Looks like it went that way,” Caitir proposed and hefted the stock back onto her shoulder. Eamhair hung her sling from her loincloth and made a wry expression.
“You don’t say…” She groaned. “Come on, let’s go.” She set off into a quick gait. Behind her, she heard the distant calls of her sister shouting ‘h-hey! Wait up!” Eamhair rolled her eyes and ignored them. Along her path the tracks zig-zagged between trees, over roots and under branches. Eamhair plucked a tuft of grey hair from a thorny bush. She gave it a sniff and pursued the tracks moving forward from the bush. The tracks were becoming deeper and sluggish, feet often crossing over one another and the occasional rut where the beast must’ve fallen. Soon, she heard that familiar panting. She crept down behind the bushes and stole a glance above them. By the roots of an old oak, she saw the beast lie gasping for air. She wouldn’t even have to knock it out like this. Immediately, she grabbed her knife, pounced out of the bush and drove it into its heart.
The beast had no chance to react. Hands caked in blood, Eamhair triumphantly pulled the stone blade out and reveled as the beast drew its final breaths. Then, there was silence. Eamhair snickered to herself and put her lips to the wound. She was incredibly thirsty after all this running, and blood was both nutritious and drinkable. The rich flavour filled her mouth and she made sure to spill as little as possible - it was a sin to waste the animal’s bounty, after all.
As she began to skin and butcher the beast, the silence grew terribly heavy. She allowed herself a number of peeks around the area, her keen eyes spotting nothing. Another moment passed before she called out: “Caitir?”
There was no response. Eamhair groaned to herself, sliced off a small chunk of the beast’s dripping heart and put it in her mouth. She was slow, sure, but not -this- slow. She had probably lost her. She rose to her feet, packed the meat she had managed to cut loose so far into the beast’s hide. She got to her feet and turned to the carcass with a suspicious scowl. “You’re going nowhere, you hear?” she mumbled to herself before she began to retrace her steps backwards.
“Caitir? Caaaaaiiitir?” Eamhair called. By Kalmar, how far had she ran? She couldn’t very well have outrun her sister -this- badly. At least, not unless her sister had been halted in her steps. Cold sweat cooled her forehead and she picked up her pace.
“Caitir! Caitir!” she called with command and unease and began sprinting through the woods. Branches whipped against her skin and thorns bit at her calves. The adrenaline ignored all of it, however - if her sister was in danger, she couldn’t afford to feel pain.
There came a weak whimper from a clearing behind a tree, followed by desperate gasps. Eamhair nearly fell forward as she turned mid-sprint. In an instant, she gazed upon her sister’s body flat on the forest soil, patches of her usual healthy, bronze skin blackening and paling like mouldy meat. Her eyes looked like old nan’s, white as milk and empty of sensation. Her breathing was irregular at best and she appeared unable to move, yet involuntarily twisted and turned as if her skin was filled with insects.
“Caitir, what’s wrong?!” Eamhair called out and laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder. In an instant, Caitir’s empty eyes locked with hers and she unleashed a deafening scream before first reaching out to choke her, then retracting her hands, then choking herself, then tossing her arms around. Eamhair skipped back, desperation and instinct overtaking reason.
“Caitir! Stop! I’ll-- I’ll bring you to old nan, just--”
“IT HUUUUURTS!” Caitir wailed before rolling over and drumming her forehead against a stone on the ground. She managed to cut herself a wound before Eamhair restrained her. Caitir tried wildly to pull herself lose, then immediately stopped and attempted to embrace her sister before then suddenly battling for her freedom like a caged beast. Eamhair, seeing no other option, wound up a hook and knocked her sister out cold. Luckily, her delusions and the agony of her affliction had already worn her out - Eamhair had only needed to punch once.
Now, however, Eamhair was horrified. What manner of plant or venom had done this to her?! That was when she noticed the trees around her, nearly every single one, suddenly releasing their leaves like they always did around autumn. The issue was, though, that autumn was far, far off. The bark paled into fragile ash and the roots began to smell of rot. Eamhair remained no longer. She left behind the sack of meat, scooped her sister into her arms and ran for home. Around her, the forest blackened and whitened into a monochrome nightmare, a terror which only spurred her to sprint faster. After a while, her lungs and heart could barely keep up with her panic and she was forced to slow down. Fewer and fewer of the trees around her now had suffered similar fates, but the dead woods behind her were already enough. Her village was not far now. Her heart calming down a little, she permitted herself to look down at her sister again. The corruption had spread, her every extremity now black as soot and each limb pocked with black and white spots.
“H-hey, Caitir,” Eamhair whimpered. There came no response. Eamhair prayed she was still just unconscious and spurred on. “Please hold on,” she whispered.
In a half an hour, she had reached their village, but what met her there was everything beyond what she had expected. Laid between the tents were a number of sick elves like her sister, but these were not from her own tribe. They were Wolfhearts, from further north - a village that they had no amiable relations to, and in truth, had been in a rivalry with. Now, though, the flutes played a different tune, and friend had become foe as this mysterious plague had overtaken them. Eamhair hurried over to their grandmother’s tent and pushed aside the curtain.
“Old nan! Caitir is very sick!”
The old Mir, the one among them who had been created old by the gods, looked up from the one she already was treating, exhaustion nearly pouring out of her eyes like tears. Eamhair pushed herself past everyone else, Caitir limp in her arms. Her sight locked onto the one Old nan was treating: It was the Wolfheart chieftain, a hunter by the name of Labhruinn. He was restrained with vines and sinew, squirming around as best he could while screaming through the sling wrapped over his mouth like a gag. Old nan had wrapped his black spots in sootheleaves, but he seemed rabid. Around him a crowd stood staring, a member of which, Eamhair had become.
“Well, don’t just stand there! Let me see her!” Old nan commanded and Eamhair snapped back into reality. It was clear from the way the old Mir inspected the wounds that she was at a loss for what to do. She would likely attempt the same procedure - sootheleaves really cured most ailments that affected the Everblooms; why could it not cure this one, too? However, with Caitir still unconscious, they had no way of verifying whether she was cured. As a precaution, Eamhair reluctantly bound her sister’s hands and feet; if she still was as rabid as before, she could not be allowed to walk free in the village.
All of a sudden, though, there came panicked cries and screams from the outside. The curtain was pulled aside in a haste and Eamhair saw it was Aodhàn, their greatest hunter.
“Elder Seonag! Elder Seonag! The sky is raining fire!”
“What?” came an empty question from old nan and everyone inside the tent ran out to see. Not much later did their screams add to the cacophony. Eamhair exchanged frightened looks with old nan before sprinting out to see. Indeed, it had been as Aodhàn had described it: Up the sky, which at this time of day would begin to near twillight, there was no Heliopolis, for it was obstructed by a much closer, much more terrifying ball of flame. Eamhair felt her blood freeze. She had lived a short life - much too short, and already it was ending? A million thoughts banged at her skull from the inside, all battling over the place atop the priority list. Should she go in and tell Caitir how much she loves her? Should she find that sweet boy she barely even knew the name of and tell him what she felt for him? Should she place some flowers by the river into which her parents’ ashes had been scattered?
“Eamhair!” Aodhàn shouted and she turned around to face him. The hunter grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along. “What are you doing?! Run!”
Eamhair gasped. “B-but what about Caitir?! And old nan?!”
“It’s too late for them, they’ll only slow us down! Come on!” The hunter let her go and ran for the woods, but Eamhair still remained in the camp, her eyes shifting between the trees and old nan’s tent. She looked back up at the boulder of flame. No way was she outrunning that - not even her. Aodhàn had courage - courage and hope - but the orb was nearly the size of their village already, its shade obscuring the sky.
Suddenly, another shape appeared below it, one smaller in comparison, but still enormous to the elves. It sped down to the village with incredible speed and sat itself neatly upon the soil in the village centre. From the object’s top came a booming voice: “Quickly! Come aboard if you want to live!” Then, along the sides of the object formed weird toothed slopes. At first, nobody dared approach, many still running for the woods. The voice boomed again: “Climb the stairs and come inside, or else you -will- perish!”
Twice was all Eamhair needed to hear it and she immediately ran into the tent, gathered those who were sane, as well as her unconscious sister, and began shepherding them up the weird, liquid slopes. Others turned to face the thing, as well, running towards it as they had ran for the woods. Once they reached the top of the slope, strangers that looked much like them began leading them towards a very odd, yet incredibly glistening mountain. The mountain revealed a slowly-opening cave at its bottom, into which the elves were rushed. When the last of them had come in, the cave was sealed with wooden tent flaps larger than any Eamhair had ever seen. The strangers spoke to some of the elves in a musical tone, offering them woven furs to keep warm. Then came a shock, one that tossed every Mir and stranger off their feet. The room immediately grew incredibly hot, then cooled as time went on. Then there was silence. The strangers offered Eamhair and her kin some hot water with a very odd aftertaste, and Eamhair took the opportunity to ask the one who offered it to her a question:
“Please, would you tell us where we are?”
The stranger formed what Eamhair supposed was a smile and curtesied without really responding. Eamhair reasoned she hadn’t been understood and dipped her lips back into the hot water with a slurp.
“You are aboard Jiangzhou - my home,” came a deep, oily voice and every Mir turned to face its source. It had long ears like them, and a face that could’ve belonged to a particularly fearsome and animalistic individual, but the similarities ended there: Its skin ended at the borders of its torso, being overtaken by crimson scales; above its ears, it grew great, dull-tipped horns; it stood about two feet taller than them, and its posture portrayed a profound sense of might and composure.
This creature was evidently one of the Gods.
“Who are you?” asked Eamhair curiously. The others listened intently. The creature turned to face her and formed a small smile.
“I am Shengshi, dear one - lord of the rivers; king of the harvests--” A number of the Vallamir placed their fists on their chest and bowed their heads in awed salute, “-- and I have come to aid Kalgrun against the end of the world.”
“Is the world ending?!” came a number of panicked screams. The snake smirked.
“Not if we can help it. Worry not - you are safe now.”
“B-but… The fire… In the sky?” Eamhair asked in confusion. The snake’s smile waned.
“Yes. It has struck the earth. My ship is impervious to its damage, but… Your village.” He shook his head. The elves drew gasping breaths and tears began to roll. Shengshi sighed and slithered over to place a hand on Eamhair’s shoulder. “... It is always a tragic loss - especially when it is caused by something so destructive. However, worry not, for I will find you a new home. One where all…” He scanned the crowd. “... Two hundred of you can live in peace in much the same way as you did here.”
Old nan, who had been brought to her knees during the quake, stood up and asked, “Will this home be far from our ancestral lands? We have hunted these woods for ten years, and we know no other way of life.”
The snake sighed. “Yes. It will be far from your old home; however, that is because your old home is…” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “... Fire has enormous potential for destruction. I am afraid what remains of your lands is…”
“May we see it?!” Eamhair pleaded. The snake’s reptilian gaze shifted to her.
“It will be a painful sight, dear one,” the snake cautioned.
“M-may we see it still?!”
The snake lowered his gaze and eventually nodded. “If you are not faint of heart, then my gates shall open for you to witness the result of Heaven’s wrath. Beware, though - the sight of death is one few can stomach.” Behind him, the gates of the palace slowly opened. “We will seek out more than may need our aid. Once Kalgrun is safe, you will be brought to your new home.”
“W-where will that be?” Old nan asked.
“The Dragon’s Foot, dear one - west of here,” said the snake and slithered off. Eamhair stood staring out the open gates. She slowly exited the palace and crossed over to the edge of the deck, her eyes boiling with tears.
Everywhere around them, as far as her eyes could see, there was ash and flame. Beside the vessel laid the cracked, sooted remains of a large rock, still radiating heat. Every tree she had known and climbed throughout her life here was either gone or reduced to charcoal. A little further beyond, the small walls of a crater crawled out of the ground to surround the great stone. As she peered even closer, Eamhair saw traces of blood, bone and charred skin among the dunes of ash. Slowly, though, the vessel she was on began to float upwards. She lost her balance a moment, and her legs were made weaker as she noticed the full scale of the damage. She couldn’t even begin to formulate thoughts anymore - her mind was wiped empty like the wasteland below. She sat down against the railing, her head resting on her knees, and wondered what she or her people had ever done to deserve this apocalypse.
Eamhair’s hunting in the woods and she gets the opportunity to land a killing blow on a beast. The KB is interrupted when Eamhair’s sister Caitir ruins everything by scaring the beast away and Eamhair gives chase. She catches up, kills it and drinks it blood and eats its meat, but Caitir’s taking a long ass time. Eamhair searches for her and finds that she’s been mar-moted (or very sick in Eammy’s eyes). She carries her back to the village to find that lotsa people have been mar-moted, including a previously rival tribe that’s come to seek help. As Eamhair tries to get their grandma to help Caitir, a meteor heads of the village. They panic, but snake comes in and takes all the Mirs onto his ship, where they are impervious to damage. Snake says hi and tells the Valla that their village has been destroyed and that he’ll take them to DF where it’s soooooo much safer. Some of the Mirs go outside to see the destruction of the meteor and Eamhair contemplate why the gods are so mean.
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