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THE SACRIFICE IS COMPLETE. THE BOILERMEN HAVE FRESH SOULS. THEY CAN DO SHIFT CHANGES.
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Harry Potter is not a world view, read another book or I will piss on the moon with my super laser piss.

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As as it is, it is said that history happens twice:

First as tragedy.


And second as farce.


The small of candle smoke and fine dinner weighted heavily on the air. In the Palais des Tuileries sat the cast of government. The ministers of state, headed by the Comte de Polignac, Jules Auguste Armand Marie de Polignac on the right of the king. And to the left the array of ministers of the Chamber of Deputies who held notability in that vast council. The king, Charles X, the elder soldier statesmen of the Bourbon Family say hunched in his chair, face pallid and gray; face shrunken, and mouth stooped as he presided over a delicate meal like a ghost. His rapidly thinning hair a dusty crown atop a liver spotted hair and a dying spirit in his eyes. The ministers and statesmen around him spoke eloquently and rapidly as they gestured over plates of duck and ham and thirty kinds of wines and freshly baked breads and fruits and vegetables. The smell of spices of herbs were heavy in the room's bouquet. But glancing to the king those who were astute would think he hardly took in any of the effect in the room.

And it was in his capacity, the Comte de Polignac's duty to keep those among the ranks of deputies distracted to the king. Quietly under the table he would dash signs to servants and royal attendants to keep the king looking lively, to come over and gently touch Charles X by the shoulder which prompted him to spring alive suddenly and eat. Taking in mouth fulls of food and chewing them like a youth; messy and with gravy dripping from his lips. A servant would come and wipe it away with a deft hand as to prevent the indignity hidden. There were after all more than state dignitaries here. Forever flirting for favor on the continent were the representatives of continental powers; Prussia restored to its throne and the Austrians as were the Papal authorities who were here to remain in communique with issues of the church. And the British, who held the kingdom by its purse strings for the years of torment wrought by Napoleon.

“I think you fail to realize the disposition of the peasants,” pleaded a deputy to Comte Polignac, “For the past several years the harvest in the countryside has been poor, and if there is no relief from the burden of taxation they will turn to riot. I can not in good faith abide a levying of additional taxes upon them: the country can not give more than it has.”

“Carrying it they will have to, it matters not to me. They subsist on stolen land. If they can not abide additional burden they should simply surrender their lands to their superiors. They are not of the class of peers that can appreciate the patriotism and sacrifice as the old land owner.” argued the Comte, “France has a great mountain of debt to clear.”

“We understand, but if the occupation of Algeria will put an end to the piracy as this court claimed; then by now we would expect the revenues to flow again through our ports. Choking back the country to pinch a few pennies will carve the wounds deeper. My king,” the deputy turned to address the king personally, “You have to intervene. Put Jules Marie in his place!”

Charles X starred up at him. His slowing head turning at the request. But now included in this conversation he felt an answer come to mind. But just before he could raise his voice to give a substantial response, the Comte de Polignac burst out: “You will answer me with respect!” he roared, offended at being called by his name. His composed pale boyish face glowing red. A Scottish rage blooming in his eyes. “I speak for this government.”

“And the king is the state!” answered the deputy.

“Leave the peasants as they lay. We can extract the revenues from elsewhere.” Charles said with a low weak voice, barely captured by the ears of the assembly. The count sought to pretend he had not heard him and tried to press on, but was relieved of his argument by Joseph de Villèle who, having retired from the ferocity of the Chamber allowed himself to appear as an aide to the court and its ministry.

The arguments in the chamber went on like this for some time. In time ending and moving to some other subject. But Charles X felt himself go tired, and let his mind drift. He came to on a thought, and his eyes lit up and he rose in his seat and said softly, in a long groaning voice, “We should cut the bonds.” he announced, having just remembered a cabinet meeting from several months ago. The men at the table, who were in the midst of a discussion of the Americas stopped.

“Pardon?”

“Cut the bonds. The interest payments are really too much.”

“Your majesty I am sorry, we can not cut payment on the interest of the rentier. It is simply too much to pay.” an embarrassed cabinet member said. Realizing his error, the king returned to rest and the chamber moved on.
Brit Roll: 2 (Asia/India) -6 (Intensity) -9 (Posts until next roll)

A thematic musical offering since it's been so long since we have had an action tiem

Daring Offensive By Bengali Elements Against Colcotta

Reported by The Times, Sept, 1, 1955 by Eric Arthur Blair


MUMBAI – Raj government officials in the State of India report that as of last weekend a major Bengali offensive concluded in the city of Calcutta, forcing British forces west of Hooghly River. While having not forced Raj forces from the city of Calcuta completely, British commander Sir William MacMahnon said of the offensive, “It was a strong fight but we came out in a clutch at the end, but I do not think we will be able to mount an offensive to retake the rest of Calcutta anytime soon.”

In the morning of last Saturday, there around 1AM an explosion was heard from the area of the Sovabazar Rajbari, the 19th century palace of the loyalist Shobhabazar family. The local forces guarding the site issuing an alert that they were under attack by unidentified forces. Events escalating from this point, Raj forces mounted a counter-attack against the Army of Young Bengal, which had been to this point occupying the outskirts of the city. The fighting there to displace the army was fierce and lasted eight hours before Raj forces began to loose ground and were forced back into the city. By late Sunday morning a second explosion occurred at the Howrah Train Station and Bengali forces moved to occupy the suburb of South Dumdum. On Tuesday the Young Bengals issued a statement that a third sabotage attempt had been made against the Dumdum airfield. They initially sought to pin the blame on British forces until later that Tuesday when a statement reached Bengali radio from a third group.

The third group, identifying itself as the Bengal Muslim League announced it had been responsible for the two explosions over the weekend, and had moved to detonate a third in the airfield. The attack they said was to disparage the British forces, and as protest against the Young Bengal movement for encroachment on the Muslim majority East Bengal, of which they ascribe solidarity with the people of Pakistan.

“We will hold the line here.” Sir William MacMahnon said, “We control several key bridges to west Calcutta. Should the enemy seek to cross, they will need to by boat or go far out of their way.”

Since the end of the offensive, fighting has not stopped as skirmishes break out across the river between opposing security forces and the Bengal Muslim League mounts continuous raids in the countryside. When asked for a comment on the attacks, Prime Minister Winston Churchill said of the episode: “It further confirms the corrosive culture and beastly actions of a most beastly people”. The comment sparked protest in parliament or elsewhere, but no serious sanction has been raised against the Prime Minister. The matter is again expected to be raised at the next convention of the Imperial Federation.

The Young Bengali movement can trace its origins to the turn of the century among Calcutta Hindu intellectuals and secular leaders advocating for independence from British rule, and further independence for a united multi-faith Bengal. The movement itself split from the original intellectual tradition of the Young Bengal movement at the formation of the Imperial Federation and its merger with the Republican Party of India (RPI) as its position moved simply towards autonomy of the region. However in the breakup of the RPI into its current factions and parties claiming its legacy the Young Bengal movement re-emerged as an army for self-determination of the Bengali people as was Burma from India. Their initiative to break from India and the Imperial Federation was met with resistance and protest and has culminated in the now lengthy civil war in East India, one of several across the sub-continent.

In contrast, the Bengali Muslim League emerged as a movement of Muslims in East Bengal, announcing solidarity with the Pakistani people and an adherence for separation between the Muslim and Hindu people of Bengal as separate nations. The Bengali Muslim League has gained considerable traction among radical clerics of East Bengal and certain sects of the intellectual elite of Dhaka. However it's emerged as a minority force between the British and the Young Bengal movement. Alone in the region except for the Rohingya of Burma, and the newest of factions in an evolving political turmoil their impact over the struggle is not yet fully understood.

As curio to the battle: there are rumors as of yet unconfirmed a group of Young Bengalis arrived by elephant.
Nouveillie Machauex

Claimoinx

Chateau d'Bagouyne


The visitor came early in the morning. Just as the sun was barely over the horizon. The sky lit in the soft vermilion and citrus hues of early morning. He came bearing the call to parlement, an arrow wrapped in purple cloth. It was taken to the chambers of the lord of the house, Baron Clairon Monte d'Bagouyne who was awoken by his servants and presented with the sign. He stirred in his morning chambers, and knew.

The messenger, having done his duty left accordingly walking out back to the house of the parlement. The Baron was in no such hurry, knowing it would take some time for all the houses of the realm to be summoned for this emergency meeting and shunted the arrow into a quiver, folded up the cloth, and being awake stepped out for breakfast.

“It is early for summons, is it not?” the baron's wife, lady Marissa Guirrard d'Bagouyne asked. The early light of morning barely enough to light through the windows. Servants walked ahead carrying tin lanterns to light the way through the dim hallway. Their light casting faint and soft against her weathered pear-shaped face. Her graying eyes shining like silver in the amber glow of the light. She walked with an unsteady gait, one hand held out to deflty hold onto the sleeve of her husband as she passively felt at the ground with a cane. She was aging and going blind, cataracts taking away her vision until the world was clear only through a dim fog. She observed the world in hazy shapes, no detail and at such a early hour in the morning she would not be able to make her way through the house.

“I suppose it is.” the baron replied, clutching a cloak to himself. It was cold in the morning and the dew of night had yet to lift from the window panes. In the rising light of morning and the glow of the lantern the droplets on the plants outside the window shone like jewels, and the frost around the edge of the rippling glass panes glowed in the passing light. “But, I suppose the rumors from the ministry is true.”

“The gate has re-opened?” his wife asked.

“It may have. The investigation must be complete.”

The baron, Clairon Bagouyne was a man of large stature, but aging fast. Though still impressive, his former handsomeness was endowed with the lines of advancing age and his skin was fading to the spotted gray of late life. His red hair and beard was quickly graying, turning to a sort of dull unpolished bronze and then slate. His brown eyes though, still bright, shone with a wary intelligence honed by decades of intrigue across the five baronies of the city Claimoinx. His hands were still hard and large, trained by a life time of dueling; but he rose one to gently hold the elbow of his wife. An injury to a leg made his gait unsteady, and he not so much as walked unencumbered down the hall but rumbled troll like down the hall.

“So, we might perhaps... Go home?” Marissa said, but he words were hesitant, uncertain. What was home, if not the chateau?

Clairon had no answer to this, and they walked silently on. Leaving behind the windowed hall way into interior chambers illuminated by torch and fire places, warming slowly for the day ahead. A large number of servants stood about, some cleaning and preparing the room for whatever lay ahead that day.

The chateau was an old building. The family Bagouyne had built it originally during the dark early days when the Macharoix raided out off the island to the mainland, coming to settle and contend the river lowlands with over half a dozen other rival adventurers. Tracing their line back to marriage with the heirs of the legendary Dagdoux they were one of the oldest and most prestigious families. High commanders of the sea, but now stately farmers and city masters, major landlord and minor trader of wines. The old wooden fort that had staked the early claim long burned and torn down, replaced successively in the waves of war and peace until the current era. The impressive granite bricks that built the towering walls and columns paneled over now in oak panels, painted and decorated. But high up along the ceilings the old stone work lay bare and tarnished over in an enameling of smoke and ash from the fire places, the torches, and the lanterns, the tobacco smoke of the minor gentry that lived here at this court and the parties and centuries of court intrigue. When the golden chandeliers were lit though, the delicate craftsmanship of the high columns and vaulted ceilings could shine through the ages in delicate ways, the roping carved stone made of three colors, the floral decorations, and the miniatures of man and horse and griffon and so on. It bore no gold ornamentation as dressed the estates of newer houses, built on the trade of distant seas and their raiding. It won its prestige and wonder at its own age and the blood soaked into the walls.

In the dining hall a single large table was prepared and dressed. The chairs removed from the table top and set on the floor. The baron and his wife occupied all of one side. They were offered last night's bread with olive oil to tide them over as they waited for the cook and his staff to bring the kitchen to life for breakfast. The tall windows here let in plentiful light, and looked down from the hill the chateau occupied over the fields and vineyards of its grounds, and the wide city beyond. So early in the morning, and there was nothing that had been done, the staff worked nonstop to lower the benches back onto the ground from the banquet table tops. To bring in linens and lay them over the tables. Bring out the candles and light them. To light the four fire places and produce more fire wood from storage. From beyond the portal to the kitchen the sounds of the pots and pans being laid out, the knives taken down, and the ovens being fired out echoed as the couple sat in cool silence, deep in their own independent thoughts of the new era rising over the realm. The mysteries were too deep for them. The unknown beyond too much to comprehend. This was the domain of religion and ceremony. The living quality of the ancient portal grounds had become mystery, as ephemeral as the Three Fold Goddess, the chariot of Macha and Eponeux.

The sounds of the kitchen seemed to settle, things were in order. From the portal a white unicorn dressed in a white coat and hat came trotting out and lowered his head to the two waiting nobles. “Good morning your honors, would you like eggs this morning? I can have them poached in ten minutes and with tea.” he looked tired, as if himself just woken up moments ago after a short respite.

“Could we have bacon?” the baron asked.

“I'll have it carved off.” the chef remarked, “Would either of the honors require any further produce?”

“If you have fresh lemons still, I would like a sliced lemon.” Marissa said in a quiet tone of voice. The chef bowed, and left, sweeping his tail as he went.
Nouveillie Machauex


Flag


The flag of the Parlement d'Machauex


While there are many flags that fly in Nouveillie Machauex, the one that is most at the center is the L' Bannier d'Parlement d'Machauex, the flag of the central organ of government. Though it is the flag of the Parlement as an organ, it is also not often the flag of the 'nation' and many of the royal standards of the realm may serve in its stead; often the flag of the highest ranking nobleman at that event, or the most prestigious among his peers.

Government Form:

Knight's Republic

Demographics:

Human
Elven
Pony (Equestrian, Unicorn, Pegasi)
Griffon
Beast-folk

Population:

11 Million

---
The Neveau d'Epiune


Plane Description:

Neveau d'Epiune or The Plane of the Horse is a land of great verdant fields, dramatic mountain ranges, wide gently flowing rivers, and great waterfalls. It has immense rolling deserts, and rolling dark seas. Its skies are blue, and filled with any manner of noble and ignoble beast. And most striking of all: it was inhabited before the opening of the rifts.

The whole of the world that the rift-walkers stepped into was much like that which they had left to escape cataclysm, were it not for the talking beasts.

The previous inhabitants referred to the world by a number of names. They had established societies and politics, all of which were disturbed and changed forever when the new inhabitants arrived.

History:

Prior to the cataclysm, the principalities of Machauex were relatively small. Their ancestral lands, as promising and vibrant as they were sundered by political feuding and the movement of dynastic politics. No single entity ruled the entire region permanently for any length of time before one way or another the Comtes, Marquis, and Dukes would invariably break it apart in the pursuit of personal glory and filial satisfaction. What arose from Machauex were kingdoms renowned for their knights and strength of their men at arms. The imposition of feudalism and serfdom made all the more rigorous by the centuries long warring states period that had persisted since the ancestral empire of the realm retreated and dissolved.

When the Cataclysm arose over the world, the princes of Machauex had just begun to be again unified under the wizard King Gourard l'Mainx, who had managed to assemble around him a court of diligent ministers and priests of the Three Fold God. Gourard l'Mainx had begun a system of reform in his principality to turn over the old authorities of the knights that continually propelled the realm into further war by bringing them centrally to court and occupying their jealous time in other pursuits. But the tearing apart of the world and the opening of the great Rift Gates threw the king, and much of the people in world's beyond to seek respite and shelter from what foul hell was being visited upon their home. For his efforts thus, and misfortune to have to throw his people beyond the known world he became known by two names, The King of Misfortune or The King In Two Places. Gourard would not survive the travel between the universes, and would thus be trapped forever in limbo between the two worlds. His son, Dagdeux l'Mainx would pick up the pieces.

Stepping beyond the gates the people of Machauex would be greeted by a world familiar, but all the more stranger than their own. Deposited upon a great empty island, they would go half a decade without learning of the world beyond their shores as they set upon building their new home. What they built would be the now sepulcher ruined yet holy city of Isle d'Gourard, a site of pilgrimage to their primordial gate in the centuries to follow to recite poetry dedicated to the homes they had been cast out from, and of the glories and conquests their heroes will surely have in resettling the castles and ravines of their ancestors. But until then, a city needed to be built.

The island they found was well stocked, at least for the initial duties. The ministers of Gourard confided in Dagdeux that they believed there would not be enough supplies to feed the entirety of the people as-was for three years. While the island could be parceled out, farm lands set aside and timber lands cleared they did not have the seed to set about in agriculture. The forage on the island may not last a year, the grass not much longer than the year after, before they are reduced to starving on the crumbs of wheat, barley, and livestock they had before succumbing to cannibalism. Dagdeux wisely took the warnings serious, and called a parlement of the surviving nobles and of significant persons to charter a plan. The deliberations took place in the shelter of Dagdeux, who was put up in a cave high up over the great rift, now dead and ashen. There they dined together, drank together, and deliberated for forty days and forty nights. At one point in frustration, when it seemed the egos of the nobility would get the worst of them he called off all rations, save for breakfast and rain water that if this is how the nobility intended to behave he would sentence all the survivors to eat and drink this way until they all died, or the situation stabilized. A faction of nobles sought to call his bluff, and entered into a game of stamina and tolerance with him that last near twenty days of the proceedings; at the end five died of ill-health, chief among them the leader of the anti-Dagdeux faction the Comte D'Aoir Lacel Ijon. This satisfied the rebel faction, and they complied and even swore themselves to service at level of peasant if it meant they might finally eat.

What came out of the cave was known as the Charter of Caves, and outlined the settling plan and the development of their future as far ahead as man could see. It outlined a strict duty of labor, and that from this moment until the future there was full abandonment of noble privileged. For the first year, the people were permitted a diet of only the fish caught off the shore of the island, and a rationing of the cooked supplies that had followed them through the gate. Through that year, there would be consumption of farmed grain, and would be merely recycled into the next year's seed crop. Theft of stores would be punishable by death, and save for the insects of the earth and of the trees every man and woman would be permitted two meals, save for pregnancy where the woman would be fed thrice. Families would be expected to raise only two children into adult hood, exceptions could be pleaded to Dagdeux and his court, but any birth of additional children when there were two already surviving would be killed, or the mother forced to abort. The forests would be strictly managed, no private quarters would be observed, the people must bivouac in the caves and the wood farmed from the forests would be put into ship building. The demands and the laws went on, but they were horrifying. But stricken in their own way by agony, to challenge the sword of the king Dageux was more terrifying than facing up to the gods and they were followed.

The years to come were hard and terrifying. There was no pleasure trapped in their desert of the island but the land was tamed to the will of man and the farms expanded. Instead of wood, the people made huts from mud and rock, strapped together with moss. They began to resemble wild men, naked except for their skirts of grass and wool. As they too spread out over the island and developed it the true scope of the island's resources became known and the Charter of Caves could be relaxed and reconsidered as before the court Dagdeux was presented with the signs of plentiful flax and metals and fine wild animals. And while things were terrible and trying, the people survived even though there was not a day without bodies to be fed to the birds in terrible, rank burial to the sky. A small rocky butte off the coast became known as the island of crows, as the birds flew so thick over it in waiting of bodies it was cloaked in black and screamed all day and night.

On the fifth year a great sigh visited upon the exiled islanders and it terrified and hypnotized the people. Flying high in the sky above them a winged horse, a pegasi as orange as fire circled about them seeming to observe the inhabitants of what it must have thought was a once emptied island. Many stepped out to gaze at its shimmering wings as it flew about the island, as many cowered in their shelters in fear of it. It's visit was only brief, and as suddenly as it had appeared it disappeared into the sunset. Dagdeux and his ministers were summoned by the people for guidance, and they could not answer. The week after it appeared again, guiding several more who appeared clad in barding. They persisted only for a while, and also disappeared before those angered at them came with their spears and bows directed up at them. Puzzled by their appearance Dagdeux took to the mountains at the island's heart to meditate and seek his father's distant spirit and wisdom in the either between the worlds. There he was spotted by a lime-green pegasi who landed tentatively near him, keeping a distance, it watched the strange visitor in intelligent eyes and pulled back away from him if he drew too close. On the ground it was that Dagdeux noticed the creature was small for the all familiar horse of his people, just larger than a small dog. He spoke to it, and he found it recognized language, but did not recognize the language Dagdeux spoke. In a fury of emotion, he rose to demand of it if it understood, where it was they were, and what the plan of the Three Fold God was. The sudden outburst frightened the creature, and it retreated high into the peaks, but Dagdeux persisted in his efforts and made to encamp in the mountains until it returned.

And return it would. Night by night it would come to Dagdeux's camp and listen to him as he spoke slowly to establish a rapport. He told the being the names of nature around him, the name of himself and the names of man and elf. The people worried, because for months their king remained in isolation on the mountain. At the end of three months, the pegasi's eyes seemed to light on an idea, and without a word it took flight, and flew out over the island to whence it came. Having the impression that his efforts were over, the king left the mountains and returned to his people and informed them as to what happened.

It would not be another several months that the flying horse would be sighted. In the mean time it began to be suspected that the creature and its kin were of no harm and talk began that they were in the realm of the Three Fold God, and that the creature they witnessed was, or related to the stead that pulled her chariot: Eponeux. Whether it was the whole race, or any one of the four that they had seen did not matter. They began to call the name Eponeux in song at night, and ritual returned to the island as joy did. Idle men and craftsmen began to carve icons of winged horses in the soft stones they found and they were taken as personal idols. A proposal to carve for Dagdeux a large statue of a horse was made, until he reminded them they still had yet to survive, the harvests were still insubstantial, winter still claimed many lives and it would not be wise to go into such things until the first houses could be built and the matter was settled. But the people called him de l'Eponeux; Dagdeux de l'Eponeux l'Mainx.

When the Pegasi returned, the people were much left aggressive towards it. On its back it carried a satchel. And above the people it cried, “Day-doo! Day-doo! No harm! Day-doo, I, go!”

The spectacle was taken as a sign, and those who were near to the cave of Dagdeux rushed to watch the strange beast land and stand before the king, and with an agile twitch of its head produce for the king a long cotton sheet, deftly embroidered to cover his naked form, otherwise clad in rough linens like a primitive man from the oldest of times and bid him to ride on its back. And with a flury of the winds, the pegasi with strength surprising everyone there took off into the air and stole away the king before the eyes of many.

Dagdeux's journey over the sea took him out over vast dark oceans, not empty of life, and clutching dear to life onto the main of the horse he looked down at the seas and saw the teeming life, the whales and great shoals of fish the size of cities and all the schools of marine life he had not reference for. And as they went he saw the ships, the great wooden cogs and galleons of kingdoms unknown that to his notice were crewed by equines and other strange beasts that resembled animals in their form. With the speed of the wind in his ears, they passed over to land, where the coasts were cut by delicate and idyllic roads, there were limitless orchards and farms. Small towns with caravans passing between them, and the many great dramatic sights of the land to the mountains at the country's interior, where he was delivered to a palace in the mountains, and deposited before – and he could have no been so surprised – a court of unicorns.

With they in their palatial uniforms, and imperial armors, and he in his rags before them he was subjected to terse interviews, a clarifying of words more than what the green one had brought. He was stolen away from his people again for a month on a month, and then months until the snows began falling. They exchanged their words until an understanding could be had, and he was sent home on a great chariot, with supplies of food; oats and barley, apples and pears, so much cloth the chariot was a shooting star in even mid day. He had alcohol and water, tools and instruments. And he came back home with assurances of their survival and he landed with fanfare and questions and most important of all: knowledge of the world beyond and alliances with the inhabitants.

Dagdeux had been delivered to the Court of Afternoons, the seat of the Mayflower dynasty, the local royal house that rules the Central Maritimes. They were not hostile benefactors, and learning of the mystery on the uninhabited islands in their waters peaked their interest. The court promised the newcomers to their realm survival and prosperity into perpetuity so long as they declared their loyalty to them, and Dagdeux seeking for such survival agreed.

As the relationship with the mainland deepened, the island developed. Soon it was able to develop to exchange, and the metals of the island were brought forth and forged for their benefactors. A word arose to describe them, the Equinites of which they drew distinction between three: the Equine, the Pegasi, and the Unicorn. Under the tutelage of the Equinites, the Isle d'Gourard became a prosperous settlement, visited by merchants of the mainland. The people of it rarely leaving. Long after Dagdeux died it was believed that the rifts would open and they would simply walk home. But the time never came. Dagdeux's sons, of the family l'Mainx became known as the L'Mainx D'Isle family, and they ruled the island with the parlement of the former nobles, though as the years went on the members of the parlement changed as the old noble distinctions became unfamiliar.

It was however in the twilight of the Mayflower Dynasty that the men of the island would make themselves known at large. When peace fell in the realm and war came upon their shores in what became referred to as the War of the Twilight Crowns the men of the island took to the high seas in piracy and raiding for their benefactors until they slipped entirely from the scene. To the ancient nobles of the island, swashbuckling on the high seas became their own avenue to reclaim their heritage as Nobles of the Sword and they took out their fathers' swords and went to war once more, but upon galleon and caravel.

The centrality of the L'Mainx D'Isle family would itself fade in this era as noble families took to the sea and expanded their activities from simple petty raiding of rival ships and navies, to full scale war and they mounted an invasion of the mainland in their own way and their own adventurism. These pirate kingdoms recruited their forces from any number of places, from displaced levees of defeated noble-equines, or griffon and beast mercenaries from beyond. But their settlement allowed for the race of man and elf to spread out over the region, into the various “pirate kingdoms” that emerged on the mainland. But for them, the Isle d'Gourard was a special, spiritual place to them and every other year the nobles and their retainers would return to the parlemen at the rift gate, and from their exercise a form of unity across the seas and lands.

The dark age wrought by the dissolution of the Mayflower dynasty would only last short of a hundred years. During this time the complete loss of political unity on the mainland would serve as more an opportunity for the foreigners whose colonies expanded and formed their own strong political entities all the same. In this time the wisest storytellers and troubadours began to sing warnings of a return to the old ways. But the years of survival and influence of the Mayflowers had eroded and changed the barbarous spirit of the Machaoir. Dynastic power flowed much more civil, there were new heights of development, not least of all: that the minor nobility that came to inhabit these new lands of Nouveillie Machauex developed a taste much more aligned with labor.

And while the the old martial spirit never fully dissolved, still persisting in dueling societies, sport, and adventurism the activities of the nobles turned more to the development of one's gardens. Here they deployed their equine surfs to cultivating the finest of orchards and fields, to fill the table with the best food that can be prepared. What war there was was sparse and small, momentary settling of conflict not resolved by the parlement. The weight of humanoid society shifted from the Isle d'Gourard and to the mainland, and besides ritual purposes the island became sparsely populated by man; given over to only a few farming villages and their chateaus. This was the 278th year.

The political climate would shift again however, when the Duke d'Maretime went to war against the Marguis d'Doir, Jacque Darcan Simlioux. Marquis Simlioux had been elected in the year 352 of their arrival to lead the parlement and opened preceding with what he declared was a matter of most enlightened significance. Declaring that all species of Equinites were equal to that of man, and deserving of their own noble liberty in the realms that the body move to illegalize what had been since the fall of the Mayflowers a system of racial serfdom, where Equinites – and especially rival Equinites – were pressed permanently into a status equal to peasant across the realm, and denied privileges to property due to it. The Duke d'Maretime, Simon Riclou took offense to the proposal, claiming it offended his honor and standing and lead a spirited but ultimately failed attempt to block the proposal. When his faction was inevitably force out, he returned home and sought to over turn the decision by force and overturn what he considered “a heretical sect in the aristocracy” and immediately invaded the lands of Jacque.

The war was violent and bloody, and had not been seen in the lands since the dark ages after the Mayflowers. But in over seventy years of war, the forces of Simon Riclou were resoundingly defeated and for his victory the grandson of Jacque Darcan Simlioux, Charles “the Great” Simlioux was elected the first king of the Machaoir and the Equinites. The reign of Charles was marked by a great shift in social reform where the ranks of the people were shortened and remodeled. Titles of nobility of merit were enacted, granted a chance for upward mobility of anyone of any race of Equinite or Humanoid. The races of Griffon and Beast-folk were still however discriminated and tinged with a reputation of support for the Maretimites.

The liberal spirit of Charles reforms would not last for long however, and during the reign of Charles II the allocation of nobility by merit became much more a matter of cash money. Suddenly considerable rank could be gained by bringing money into the coffers and an era of raiding and piracy returned to the region. While Nouveillie Machauex was itself not raided by itself, the actions of crown sanctioned pirates earned the disrespect and ire of many of the kingdom's neighbors and war soon began again with the era of the Anti-Pirate Wars. Nouveillie Machauex would have its losses in one part of the world and its victories in another. In contemporary histories it is not regarded as a particularly advantageous period for the people politically. Any gains made in one front was lost in another. They were not wars centrally fought, and were ultimately lost as such with much censure. In the end, Charles II died. The cause of his death was highly suspected to be a curse or act of black magic from within his own castle.

The Pirate Wars would come to end as titles of merit no longer were issued. By Charles II's death the title of king was also not looked upon fondly and political prestige shifted again to the eternal parlement. While the office of the king still existed, it was reduced in its stature and forced to answer to the noble parlement. The chief factions that arose in the parlement in the post-war period was that of the Sword and that of the Purse. All members of the parlement were recognized as being knights of the realm at minimum, and would even routinely enlarge to encompass more. The factions of the parelement would even enlarge it in a bid to attract more Knights of the Purse or Knights of the Sword. The balance of power in the royal legislature was never permanently satisfied by such reform.

In the end, balance in the parelement would not be disturbed from its own games, but from outside the expected realm of politics. In the 400th year parelement member and minor legislature Honorable Sundown Horizon, a unicorn from the Commune Cille in the county Maretime was performing idle experiments when he described the functions of heat on a fluid, in particular mercury. In the end he wrote that a rise in heat was proportional to the volume of the liquid mercury in a vessel. The writing was submitted to colleagues at his local salon and forgotten about. But from the salon the experimental device would be passed around and in the 416 would find itself in the hands of brewers and winemakers the realm over that found it helped them perform a much more consistent work at their craft, and not only that but perfected the quality of their beer and wine. Brewing and winemaking in Nouveillie Machauex experienced a Renaissance and the streets of the realm were flooded with high quality drink. Wine houses and public houses opened all throughout cities and the local grain and the markets almost collapsed as the price of drink on the streets reached hitherto unknown lows and the prices of grains and fruits skyrocketed as they were purchased en'masse by the multitudes of new brewers. Forced to act in an emergency session, the parlement attempted to remedy the situation by enacting a series of price controls, pegging the price of alcohol at a higher rate than food, and lowering the price of grain artificially so that the peasants may eat. But this sudden attempt to control the market only collapsed it further, and forced to stave off famine direct government control had to be declared, far beyond the current capacity of the state. A period of famine engulfed Noveillie Macheaux and a series of civil disturbance rocked the country side known as The Great Fear, The Beer Wars, The Cider Wars, or The Great Grain Gone.

This turbulent period saw no central forces as was during the Pirate Wars, though the chaos was opportunistically sprung upon by romantic knights who pretended to sally forth across the country to do battle with just about whatever peasant army they might come across. Peasant militias often fought with each other, and the parlement and king fought over central control. In the end after a four month long “war” within the greater civil war the forces of the king were defeated by the parlement and the legislative body assumed total control of the ship of state. In a move to reform the body and increase efficiency of the parlement the 4,578 strong body of nobles voted to shrink itself down to a more managed 601. The hence retired nobles would take on the role of ministries with the mission of restoring order to their departments. And in the 443rd year the realm was deemed pacified and the situation returned to normal. Extensive infrastructural improvements were made to the realm to improve the flow of grain and fruit and alcohol to the cities and thus the brewers, but a strict limit on the total volume of alcohol in the realm was set and to be enforced by inspection. The amount of production was capped, though well over the dictated limit. This excess alcohol produced in realm was to be distributed abroad, and Nouveillie Machauex beer acquired a world renowned following and fetched high prices. Brewers and merchants who moved the goods made off well in foreign markets and money once again flowed into the realm as it had many times before, the economic crisis entirely forgotten.

Between the Brew Laws of 440 and the present moment, the limits have been steadily lessened. It has been realized that money made off brewing could be made off imports of foreign grains, and thus leaving native food stocks less important to the alcohol brewing. As such it's becoming more and more acceptable by the Knights of Parlement to consider abolishing the price controls on grain, although the move is unpopular among the commoners who consume it. And in the 500th year: the gate reopened. Songs of Gourard l'Mainx, of Eponeux, and the old country are being sung again. Pilgrims and spectators go to the gate to observe it from a distance, wondering what realm lies beyond its oblivion, and if the king of legend will stumble out of it, no longer lost in its limbo.

Culture and Society:


Nouveillie Machauex as a nation is dominated principally by the Macharoix, a demonym for both the elven and human migrants that escaped their ancient home from the tongues of the great cataclysm that destroyed their world. They stepped instead into a strange new world inhabited by sapient animals separated into Equinites and Beast.

Equinites simply and obviously refers to the inhabitants of an equine character, unicorns, pegasi, and seemingly normal horses. This race is differentiated from the contemporary horse by the range of color they take on, their intelligence, and anthropolic character; like the Macharoix they speak, dress, and otherwise act as the humanoid does just on four legs instead of two.

The other caste set aside is that of the Beast, who are likewise as intelligent as any of the rest but often less respected. These include griffons who often have a mercenary character to the Macharoix, and the Beast-Folk which encompass a large and diverse set of characters best considered “underground” or on the same level of the peasantry of old, if not even lower in some select cases.

The Macharoix initially came into this world as being scattered warlike nations, though even before the gates opened they were not entirely violent. Renowned in the ancient times as skilled crafstmen and artists their linens and pottery were sought after as well as their bronze and ironworks in their region of the “Low Lands”, though today none really remember what those lands ever were and may never remember. But while they have lost the barbaric edge they once had, the spirit persists in the romanticism and often rubs off onto the other races of the realm, especially in times or turbulence where any moment that permits it will rise the spirit of bored princes and their entourages to take up the sword and seek adventure, near or far.

The Macharoix also have an affinity for poetry and song, troubadours are a cultural institution from before the gate, and have always been present in court or along the roads and has even been enhanced and developed further by their Equinite peers that have the same or similar spirit.

They are also renown for their alcohol.

Governance and Politics:

Nouveillie Machauex is ruled primarily by the Parlement, the Speaking Body as it were. This singular body elects the ministers of government who run as an executive council. While the activities of the parlement are public knowledge, they are not freely elected and are composed of a rotation of members from the nobility, who since the defeat of the King during the Great Fear has been capped at Marquis. But even below a diverse range of noble title exist, and titles are issued by election of confidence and competence for when a citizen of the realm performs a feat of respect, or more often brings in considerable coin.

The chief member of the ministry is known as the Duke of State, and his second hand – or hoof – man/stallion/woman/mare is the Marquis of State.

Technology and Magic:

The relative technological state of Nouveille Machauex can be considered “late medieval”. I don't feel like getting into the weeds.

The practice of and theory behind magic to the Machavoix as adopted from the Equinite beliefs is that all creatures have inherent magic to them, reflective of their capacities as a living creature and development of an individual. Applied among the Equinites, it serves as sweeping generalizations of how each sub-set is how they are, giving unicorns their magical abilities besides simply levitation or the capacity of pegasi to fly despite their weight-to-wingspan rations being often "Bumblebee" in character. The humanoids who passed through the gate either carried with them the same 'element' of magic, or adopted it when they arrived to the plane. And while for all known intents and purposes everything possess magic, not all are able to fully realize it, let alone hone it for practical use purposes, and further train it to specific ends; pegasi and unicorns may perhaps be the only two races to at minimum realize their most basic magical capacity as fact of life.

Military Overview:

In general, Nouveille Machauex operates still a levee system of military recruitment. When and if needed a selection of service-aged males will be drawn from the population, given rudimentary training, and armed with one of two weapons: the pike or the crossbow. Additional armament is up to the individual leveeman who may purchase additional armor. Sometimes through the wealth and generosity of the nobles brigandine armor and barding may be set aside for the levees.

There is also throughout the realm a system of personal and Parlement Levees, who act as the standing regular and professional men at arms and hoof at arms of the state. These units are often small, but far better armed and armored than the levees through the purses of their lord or the state funds itself. The equipment set aside for these units can range from brigandine of a much higher and heavier caliber than that of the levees, or full plate armor and any matter of weapons from the long bow, war hammer, sword, lance, or mace.

Les Supplementals


Home-Plane Map


Additional locations will be added as I invoke them

Cities and Localities

Claimoinx - The Capitol of Nouveillie Machauex, where the Parlement d'Machauex meets and the ministries reside. The city is spread between five baronies, controlling several districts each.
Chateau d'Bagouyne - The seat of the House Bagouyne, see further down. Many orange groves.


Isle d'Gourard - The sacred island where the Macharoix entered into their plane. There they resided for several generations under the protection of their nominal unicorn overlord until the decline of that equine's royal house. During the period of decline the Macharoix invaded and conquered the mainland. In the successive centuries the island declined in population until it became the home of only a few villages and chateaus, usually owned by families now living on the mainland as their claim to the legacy of history. The island is special for Macharoix spirituality and is often a site of pilgrimage, since the ancient gate there still stands and acts as a religious ruin to many who honor the Three Phases of the Three Fold God[dess] (Birth, Life, and Death respectively).

Here the Old Gate serves as memorial for the island's namesake, King Gourard who disappeared into the aether between planes. A vast tomb also stands for his son, Dagdeux who lead the Macahroix through the harsh formative years on their rocky, unfamiliar island encampment.

Cherbourg - A northern territory, dense with hills and butting against the mountains. Heavily forested.
Ville-de-san-Sable - A small village in the middle of Cherbourg


The [Major] Royal Houses Named thus far


House Bagouyne



The Bagouynes are one of the oldest royal families in Nouveillie Machauex. Dating their legacy back to ancient marriages with the sons of the legendary Dagdeaux, if even before then. Ascending to power as one of the five barons of Claimoinx, the capital of Nouveillie Machauex. Known for thei apples. The family head, Baron Clarion is also the second man of state, or the Count of State.

Head:
Baron Clairon Monte d'Bagouyne
Marissa Guirrard d'Bagouyne

Intro

The Purgoins


A Machauphonic family of Equestrian nobles, primarily unicorns, who are one of the power players in the capital of Claimonx. Presently, the head of the family is the Duke of State.

Head:
Yeiux Rouges, Duc d'Purgoin

House Aquiea


The Aquiea are a family of counts who rule a southern fiefdom of the same name.
Head:
<Not introduced>

Other characters:
Comte-Prince Rodri D'Aquiea
Goldenblood
Mr. Wolf
Tibet

Lhasa


Sunlight streamed through the palace window, warming the otherwise cool room. The wooden joists and wooden floorboards groaned as they expanded in the warm early-afternoon sun. The cold morning was lifting and the day was beginning. In a private study, the Dalai Lama sat on a cushion and recited the sutras with his monk-courtiers. Their voices low as the earth. When they finished and lifted their heads they coughed and began moving about. The lessons for the day were to begin.

Thupten Lungtok Namgyal Thinley, the Ling Rinpoche, master of four schools of Buddhism, and head of the Gelug sect lead the personal lesson. With broad shoulders, bald head, and an old face that squinted through his smile lines he looked the every personification of a kindly uncle. Sitting across from the Dalai Lama he looked the boy in the face and began the lessons. He spoke gently, throwing his hands in motion as he entered into dialog with his student. Going over scripture, stopping to hear questions, and to answer them. When the youth began to act out, becoming bored and impatient and acting improper he chastised him, bringing him back to hell so they may continue. After all as he told Ngawang Sungrab the Third Taktra Rinpoche to look out for him, because again he may conspire to antics.

He engaged in a long thoughtful dialog, breaking into the tradition of debate to emphasis points and to waken the room. A small collection of attending monks had stolen the moment to stand by the door to collect on the sermonizing and the teachings, hoping to absorb a little more wisdom. After several hours however, Namgyal Thinley began to feel sore in the knees. Uncomfortable, sour, and the hardness of the sun's rays having dulled as the day passed into mid-afternoon he decided it was time to call a rest to the lessons. He rose.

“I am growing tired of of this room.” he said in a soft low voice, “It is warm outside. I want to know the day still while it is warm.”

Surprised, the young Dalai Lama rose. His mind returning to basic principals he asked: “But how is it you can desire? Aren't we supposed to lose our own desire to attain enlightenment?”

The Ling Rinpoche looked down at him and laughed, “Yes, but that doesn't mean we should live our lives in discomfort.” he said, “And you'll remember someday how it is to sit so long on your knees. The warmth of the sun or standing somewhere else relieves much discomfort.”

“Yes, bu-” the Dalai Lama began, before being interrupted,

“There is no buts. There only being for what it is to be in the world.” the tone of his voice tensed some at this, dropping a few leaves of the passive joy he had in his tone of voice, “Though it is to desire things that are comfortable and luxurious that attaches us to this world and prevents us from seeking peace, so it is that desiring things which are uncomfortable and harmful for us. Walking from one stage of life to the next to seek the next destructive adventure of experience after the next acts as negative attachment, to force ourselves away from something just because it can resolve a little physical discomfort. But this can be a whole lesson into itself. You should ask Lobsang Tenzin about it. He will lecture your ears off the whole day!” he said laughing, “But I am still sore.” He started to walk again and the Dalai Lama followed him at a skip.

They stepped out into the sun of Lhasa. It was a clear day, and warmed by the afternoon the city was out in force. Outside of the palace grounds on the streets the people were out selling crafts and wares out of stalls, sweeping the streets, and going on with their days. Pilgrims made processions around the palace walls, clutching rosaries in their hands as they made circuits or prostrating themselves upon the ground and rising again, their palms and knees bloodied from their long crawling voyage across the length and breadth of Tibet to the county's many shrines. Things were as they should be, were in not for the gray armored car that slowly plotted and spat its way through the streets, moving around the dense groups of pilgrims and pushing the vendors to the side. The young Dalai Lama, leaning against the sunbleached wood of the palace railing knew who it was. He felt his heart suddenly sink seeing them. He became concerned and terrified, recalling the whispers he heard throughout the palace.

“Lungtok,” he said softly, watching the car snake its way out of view, “why are the British here?”

The Ling Rinpoche's back stiffened at the question and he felt a cold sweat on his brow. His throat caught itself and for a time he was unable to speak as the question wrapped him in tension and shame. He sighed, and the Dalai Lama had to repeat the question.

“It is intrigue.” he said flatly.

“Am I danger?” the Dalai Lama asked.

“What would make you ask that?”

“I hear things.” the young boy said, “Some monks speak softly, thinking they can talk when I can't hear them. But I do. I get the feeling I'm in danger. So, am I?”

Thupten Namygal found himself embarrassed. Sighing, he turned to look into the distance, passed Lhasa and into the peaks of the Himalayas on the far side of the valley. The young Lama pried again and he was forced to answer, “No, you're not. For our best efforts you're safe.” he said, “There are people who conspire, we believe. But so far they are a minority.” he licked his lips.

“So how is they are here?” he asked.

“Protection.” the Rinpoche answered.

“From who?”

“The Chinese.” was the answer. “Years ago, during the reign of one of your previous life, the Chinese attempted to invade several times. Once by a warlord clique of Muslim invaders, they were driven out by the lesson was taken. The British approached us, and we allowed them to help us. As we did the Russians. But now the Russians are gone, and the British should be gone. But the British are not gone entirely.”

“And what then?”

“Well... The Chinese came back again, more unified and your predecessor reached out. The British returned, but not the same British. They helped us, but when it was over, they never left. And here they are.” it was the most basic of answered, but Thupten Namygal had to hope it worked. There were things the boy had yet to learn, and it was hoped that would not be for some time. It would be hoped that when it was more assured he would live he would get to learn it. But he also knew he was the Dalai Lama, and that if he wanted to know he would need to be told. He swallowed as he waited, he felt cold in spite of the sun. His chest tense.

The young boy thought for a while, looking down the road the car had gone and himself looking up over the valley but also towards where the British had their fort at Drapchi. “Did you try to tell them no?”

Thupten tensed, thought about the question. Hesitantly he answered, picking his words carefully. “I did try to refuse them.”

China


Qinghai

Tibetan Militarized Zone


The cigarette smoke was heavy on the air as the men sat at a long table, going over technical information. For the past month the long command transfer process had been carrying on diligently. Men from central command had made their rotation through the doors of the conferences. Long tours of the entire long command theater was made to make introductions to numerous individual local commanders. Observations were made, exercises carried out officers gave accounts of inspections, inventories were presented for re-review and the physical assets examined. An entire mind-numbing amount of intelligence was poured over, reviewed, and discusses. Plans and contingencies were reviewed in full, even if Feng Lu knew them all from his under service to Quan Yu. The exhaustion was coming to its terminal breaking point. But there was relief on the horizon, for it was nearly over.

“I think that perhaps the Taklamakan Detachments might be under-utilized.” Feng Lu said with a tired voice, “Tibetan raiding hasn't targeted them directly in the past year a half where as they've been probing more eagerly the center. I don't think there's any incentive for them to perform any encirclement.”

“What if they do try?” an officer asked, as a test.

“I would have to first assume they have been performing recon and are assessing our forces. But from what I remember from uh-” he paused for a minute to scan through a note book dog eared notebook, that with all of its hundred tabs now sticking out had transformed into a multi-colored flower, “Apparently QJ has acquired a significant amount of evidence suggesting the East isn't even in Tibet's priorities. U-Tsang is a region they believe would be just a distraction from any significant operations. The road to Nagqu would be in an offensive operation of more importance as the first major stop before Lhasa. I think they're right to assume that Aksai Chin would not be very important, much of Ngari would be a logistical nightmare. I would not want to use it for anything except some small maneuvers. But with no development to speak of, we should just consider that entire side of the country impassable.

“For this reason, and because they seem to be suspecting that the policy of raiding can not be tolerated for long they're concentrating more to hold Kham. In a desperate situation, even an offensive on uh- into Amdo. In such a case, or for any large-scale Tibetan offensive they are operating at a severe disadvantage, the number and quality of the armor and mechanization we have would put our combined arms at an advantage, and they'd be operating within the functionality of our aircraft for this altitude.”

“And if you were asked to do such an offensive into Tibet?” asked another officer, testing.

“For the past five years there's been development for small-unit mountain operations. We would be operating entirely by foot in this theater and at loose many of our advantages. But with radios and numbers our invading force can theoretically operate many small cohesive fronts in Tibet. A Chinese operation would see leadership from specialized mountain battalions with the backing of regular infantry rotated in from elsewhere in the country as part of their duty stations. These units would operate a mostly support function, performing logistics on the way up and into Tibet, policing, and creating a fall back line for when any group is defeated in the mountains or forced into retreat. From here a combination of small arms and mountain artillery, and range permitting aircraft help keep the Tibetan forces contained.

“On review of the rifles in our possession and the quality of our ammunition in comparison to the rifles and ammunition picked up lost on the field from raiders, we should easily have the range advantage on our small arms. We'll be more than able to begin an engagement before they can. The only asset the Tibetan armed forces have for them to make anything work is to take cover, which will be our major threat moving forward.”

“Hopefully they will be kind to us and wear their monk orange.” someone in the room joked, eliciting laughter from the officers on hand.

Even Feng Lu took the brief moment to laugh, if it would not make anything less of him, “How we should ah-” he started again, clearing his throat, “How we would be aware of this however a solution has emerged within the last year. Intelligence Services have been nurturing and developing internal contacts and informants within the Tibetan region and the government in Lhasa willing to leak us information or serve as guides. According to these intelligence resources the condition of the Tibetan state is not well. The Dalai Lama is young, only thirteen and not at the age of maturity. He follows off of turbulence in Tibet since the assassination of the Fourteenth, or so it's suspected. As such the government is split into three parties: The Regency Council, the Military State commanded but what appears to be European mercenaries, and an under-developed Dalai Lama faction who are entirely locked out of government. The Regency and Military State are locked in disputes on how to continue, but it's been threatened that the Military State may eventually overtake the Regency. Our assets have indicated there is a possible flow of funds and capital from way of India backing them, though a absolute use of that capital they are accumulating and to develop it into political power is hindered somewhere. Military and civilian-state analysis believes it is hindered by Tibet's total lack of modern development. They've urged, so it seems, that if there is to be any intervention in Tibet to arrest the region's rebelliousness against the Republic and to finish the Expedition program that an offensive is started soon, and I am counting this as my regular petition to give order to begin those.”

“And ceremoniously I say the request has been received, and time will tell.” a well dressed and groomed officer said, a liaison from the capitol and central command, “I am however getting hungry. Should we break for an hour and a half?”

“I agree.” was the agreement from other officers.

“I too am a little parched. Some tea and soup would be excellent.” Quan Yu added, rubbing at his belly. His old tired eyes looked over the room and to Feng Lu he said in a low quiet voice as everyone was leaving: “You are doing well.”

“Thank you.” Lu said, tired if optimistic, “I'm going to get a drink.”

He left the table, moving slowly to the door. Officers and civilian officials stood about, stretching their backs and strolling down the hallway to stretch their legs. At the far side there were scant few people, except for a handful of officers from the capital that had gathered to chat and smoke by a window. They rubbed their brows and laughed, stopping to stand straight and salute Feng Lu out of politeness as he passed. He returned the favor and went down the stairs.

The cafeteria to the command post was small, large enough for the few dozen officers that worked in the building and their direct staff, not to gather at one time but throughout the day. At present there were a few seated lieutenants who sat with caps off as they ate some warm dumplings. They stopped what they were doing to rise in honors to Feng Lu, ordering them back to their meal he moved along and ordered a cup of tea from the civilian at the counter. He poured him a serving of tea warmed in samovar into a cup.

“How are things going?” the man asked.

“Well, just tired.” Feng Lu said

“I imagine so. It's been a long month or so.”

“Has it been?”

“Just about, when I saw them come. Be careful around them.”

“Thanks, but I think I got it.” Lu said, holding the cup as he stepped back from the counter. The server sent him off with further well wishes, before returning to cleaning the kitchen.

He sipped his tea as he walked back up the stairs. Arriving to the second floor landing and passing the capital officers he found they themselves were ready to continue. As he passed they extinguished their cigarettes on the window sill and flicked them outside and followed Feng Lu. “How are you feeling, sir?” asked one of them as they went back into the conference room, everyone had already returned from their stretches.

“I'm feeling fine.”

“You look rough.”

“Because I'm also tired.”

“Understandable.”

He returned to the conference room, everyone had cleared out by now and the small group of officers lingered for long enough to collect a few effects and leave. Lu stood behind his seat, sipping the tea and looking down at the stacks of papers and binders scattered about. Quan Yu had left, no doubt for a cup of soup and to go somewhere to eat outside. For the moment however, Lu thought to himself that what he needed was to keep himself centered on what was being handed to him. He sipped his tea as he stood erect by the chair, looking at the half a library's worth of information scattered around him.

He found his thoughts turning to whether or not if called on he would be able to prosecute an offensive in Tibet, however. He sipped at his tea, weighing things out. With the breadth of the planning and organization, it presented itself as a self-executing goal. That all was needed was to give the word and the entire operation would carry itself out to completion. Undergo its metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly and realize its existence from the world of dreams into reality. Was he even the dreamer of the plan here, or was he the dream of the plan. A concert of a hundred thousand moving parts, directed on their routes of years of simulation and study and at the Kriegspieltisch.

The hour and a half passed, and the men returned to the conference. Some with their left overs of food and with unfinished drinks. Feng Lu retook his seat as everyone resumed their position and Quan Yu came back. There was a moment of polite silence as the note books were reopened and pens tested and they waited. “So where were we.” Lu said dryly, joking. There was a polite murmur of relaxed laughter in the room.

“Military-civilian cooperation. I think that's where we were going: given the intelligence operations in Tibet we stand at an operational position where our allies in Tibet would or could seize native communication infrastructure ahead of our movements. Over the past year the Tibetan military has cobbled together a sophisticated system of radio communication as checkpoints across the country. These installations provide fore-warning to forces ahead of any invaded and updates and act as a territorial-wide sensory network. Using direct line of sight and perhaps engagement based detection they find where our armies would be coming from and relay that ahead as evidenced by the prior forays into Tibet. This has given the Tibetan military a robust reactive capability. But with infiltrators already behind line, their assets may be turned against them to broaden our range of operational ability through Tibet and disrupt the Tibetan surveillance. Our deep small-unit operations in the territory will be in need of broad radio networking for our forces to communicate across the peaks. It-”

Feng Lu was interrupted as a courier suddenly burst into the room. In his hand he held up a red telegram card. He wore a stiff if apologetic face as he called out to the room, “An urgent dispatch from Nanjing. I am sorry to interrupt.”

Feng Lu looked up at him, his chest tightened. “What is it?” he almost choked out.

“I am sorry.” the courier said, holding the telegram close. He walked around the table to the commander-to-be and held out the dispatch to him. He bowed as Feng Lu took it, and took several long steps back as Lu scanned the brief lines. His face took on a pale color as he set it face down on the table.

“I am sorry that we all wasted our time here.” he said in a low voice, “But it seems Nanjing had other ideas.” the men at the table leaned in close to hear what happened. Even though officers from central had their interests piqued. A stunning dawn crept into their faces as Feng Lu relayed the telegram, “According to the central command, real command of the operation is being given to General Fen Yu-Wen, who is to take over command in Lijiang. He's already been briefed. I am fortunately able to retain my post over this section, but I answer to Yu-Wen now.”

Confused muttering filled the room as everyone looked around, “Can they do that?” someone asked.

“Fortunately they can.” someone said, perhaps from central.

“This is embarrassing.”

Nanjing


“A jolly good shot!” cheered the British ambassador. The golf ball, small and white rolled to a stop in the distant green. It rested five yards from the flag. Drove from the starting tee at the far side of the course it had made a gentle swooping voyage through the air, down a dogleg left before landing with a gentle plop in the grass, “By Jove, Mr. Xiu, if you were not in politics you would be a fine show in the professional circuit.”

“It was luck.” Xiu Lu remarked with a smile, stepping aside. The caddies and attendants following the game applauded politely as he prepared space for the British ambassador to the Republic of China, Edward J. Grensill. With his large frame he looked to be like a giant among the Chinese. Aged and with a silver edge he looked respectable with swept back silver hair and a heavy mustache. He walked with a limp on account of a war injury in his leg, but he kept a rosy demeanor all the same as if it no longer bothered him.

“I could have gone professional.” Edward declared, putting the tee into the ground and crowning it with a little yellow ball, “But I was never one to practice often. Say: after that drive, how often do you get out?”

“Once a month.” Xiu Lu said. The South Nanjing Golf Association they played their game at was well outside the city. It hugged Shiju Lake on its north shore, there was a beach for members only behind the club house proper. The golf course itself was surrounded by a parameter of dense young trees that flowered in spring and fruited in summer, attracting many birds that often paraded about on the course. They surrounded each fair way as well, turning each into an island of their own where in the waves of floral bushes and reaching branches was the shaded walking and driving paths of the entire course. The trees bore fruit in spring and summer. But now that summer was coming to an end the fruit was mostly gone, and only stragglers graced the course. The visiting birds were replaced now by an aroma of fermenting plum and cherry, picked over only by the crows.

“Oh bullocks!” the ambassador exclaimed, “A man so skilled at the drive has to practice often and well.”

To himself, Xiu Lu wondered why it was he had been asked to join the British ambassador in a game of golf. He had did so diligently in the interest of cordial relations. But he watched him smile as he handled a set of drivers to tee off his first ball. “No, the wind is just good.” Xiu Lu said.

Edward began testing the feel of several drivers from his bag. He picked a club that felt right for him and went to tee. Studying the green for a time, and taking a feel of the wind he rose the club and drove hard at the ball, sending it sailing with the wind. But he hit it too hard, or too far off the side. The little yellow ball sailed up through the sky in a long curve before falling short of its goal and landed in the rough, shy of the green. “Ah, rubbish.” he said.

“I think you twisted the club when you swung.” Xiu Lu consoled him, “It hit unevenly.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

Edward shrugged diplomatically and slung the driver under his arm like a swagger stick before depositing it in the bag. “Well, we should be off to them.” The drivers were already on their way in the golf carts, the weak lawn mower engines puttering away. The others following in a jog on pedal bikes. By the time they got to Edward's ball he had a beer in hand and they stepped out to study it.

“I think this will cost me.” he said unsatisfied, drinking from the bottle.

“No, be patient. You can get it there.”

“I am already one over par.”

“This is the first hole. We only just begun.”

Edward laughed, took a pull from the bottle, and picked out an iron. Walking up to the ball he grumbled while shuffling his feet. A bead of sweat ran down his long nose as he stood over the ball. Xiu Lu had to admit: it was a humid day, even for him and in the heavy golf clothes the British ambassador wore he had to be feeling much worse. With a dull tap he knocked the ball, bouncing it out of the grass and it landed with a few short hops into the green. The ball come to rest in the green he took another pull from the bottle, smirking. Walking over he spoke, “Abysmally humid today. Do you suppose it'll rain?”

“If it does, the club house's special is roasted duck in an orange sauce. I'll buy the bourbon.”

“Good lad! But you're not bothered?”

“Not at the least, you look a bit wet.”

“Yes, I'm a northern man. I was born in the wind.” said Edward.

“I always think to myself: the British have solid academies. I never notice until someone says. You're all from London or Oxford if I knew better.”

“Right'o. They even beat the Scots out of the Scots!” Edward laughed, “God's work, they are.”

They came to the ball and Edward picked a putter. Feeling confident in how it felt in his hands, he stepped forward and gave it its lightest taps. It was not enough to get it to the hole, but it took Xiu's ball out of rest. “Your turn.”

“Perhaps we need such academies, to bring all Chinese to proper Chinese.”

“A good idea, but I can only help you with the English lessons. But what would be the right Chinese?”

Xiu Lu only turned, smiling before tapping the ball. It rolled smoothly across the short cut grass before coming to rest a few inches from the hole. “I'm not sure what we'd do. That's the forte of Tsai Guo. I know he has some ideas. Literacy funding. Research into advancing the language. There are some debates over monolingual or bilingual programs but I do not follow any of that. I and my kids are all too old, and the grandchildren all have gone to proper academies. They speak the proper Mandarin, and can write in the classical style. As much as I and my family can engage: it's all done.”

“I wish it were the same for my boy Oliver but he seems to be becoming native.” Edward said, “I wonder if he is now somewhere between here in Shanghai.”

“Shanghai has that sort of pull.” admitted Lu, he leaned forward on his club. With a tap he pocketed the ball. Edward followed with his own play, but missed the putt and it rolled away from the hole. “Bullshit!” he swore.

“Careful.” Lu said with a smirk.

“You're right, I don't want to become American. But: zero par to one-over.”

With the hole finished, the two men mounted their golf carts again and were rolling off through the green hills of the course to the next hole. Stepping out Xiu noticed that Edward had his second bottle. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“This weather is getting to me.” Edward said.

“I'm sorry, would you have rather of done this in Beijing?”

“Yes, if the capital was there again.” bemoaned the Englishman, “But bloody hell, this weather. I should have requested a posting to Sweden.”

“What about the cold, though?”

“Tolerable.” Edward swung, and kicked off the hole with a long drive straight down the middle. It popped and rolled across hill before coming to a stop at the edge of the green. The British diplomat was visibly happt with himself and smiled gregariously as he turned to Lu, “Look at that!”

“Impressive drive.” Lu said, “Where were you before all this?” he asked as he stepped to his ball.

“Prior I was a special consul to Russia.”

“How was that posting?”

“Stressful.”

“I wouldn't have thought. But then, we've been ejected from Russia.”

“Should just give them their east back.” said Edward, teasing.

Xiu Lu brought hit the ball. “I don't think we will.” the ball landed behind Edward's.

“It is a shame then. But no surprise. Not as if they won't be able to anything about it. But, nice drive.”

“No, that wasn't good at all. It was bad. I think I hesitated on it.”

“Never-the-less, chap: a good drive.”

“What exactly were the intrigues in Russia?” Lu asked as they went back to the golf carts.

“That the court is divided between its east and its west. They argued whether the greater issue was the free hand the local army chiefs in the west of the country had or whether the court needed to have Siberia to heel in order to have access to basic resources. Anger at the Chinese and the Japanese, or enraged terror at the German Communists. This was all before the Ukrainian invasion, so the situation has invariably changed significantly. But I left Russia having broken hearts, so no one tells me what is new there any more. But it was a stagnant waste of time.”

Over the ride on the carts to their next play Xiu thought it would be time to break the question on his mind. Disembarking and stepping to the balls he asked, “So I assume it is not any deals over Russia you want us to sign for, you personally are locked out. I don't think you're here to just play golf, Mr. Grensill. So I wonder: what is the business?”

“To play a round of golf?”

“No, that's not it.” said Xiu Lu, striking the golf ball onto the green.

“Right you are.” Edward answered back, “I do have a matter of importance to bring up.

“It's of the matter of the Japanese.” he said putting his ball back into play, it rolled off the side of the hole and came to a rest a meter away, “As you for sure know the Japanese have us pinned down in the East Indies. There have not been major strides in the front for some time but between the mess in the Americas and in Nigeria the balance is, well it is fragile. The Federation exists on thin ice, as the Americans would say; and we need what help we can get. The Dutch have been putting up an admirable fight but it's not a winning fight. There are only so many resources we can devote to it.”

“This government has made its position well known.” Lu's ball also came within orbit of the cup, but rolled off the lip and stopped a hair's breadth away, “We're neutral to the war. Though we do not like the Japanese government and hold grudges against it for its continued occupation of Chinese territory, the Republic is not fit to take them on offensively.”

“I am not asking for a force commitment.” Edward said, “I have been authorized by the Prime Minister and Parliament to seek more passive means of support from China, if you will not accept other terms.”

“I should also say I am not unilaterally authorized to commit any part of China to anything.”

“I know that!” Edward said sharply, exasperated. He walked over to his ball, “But you are my liaison to president Li Su. So: on what terms with the president meet with the British Imperial Federation?”

“What are the terms being offered?”

“You allowed the Germans to dock ships in Chinese ports, that much I know. Can the British be extended such offers as well?”

“I should have you know that this would park ships of war in our ports. I can't trust the Japanese would not take a chance. You expose China to too much collateral.”

“Yes, but docking rights and privileges would give our ships such better operational capability. We could neutralize the Straight of Taiwan, shift the entire front to our favor and throw the IJN into chaos. Retake Taiwan.”

“Taiwan is not yours to retake.” said Liu. Edward putted again. There was lackluster force against the ball and it did not go far enough. He went again and pocketed it.

“I think this hole is yours.” he said.

Xiu Lu nearly wanted to make a comment about the clandestine plans for Taiwan. That with or without the British or the Dutch they were working to handle the island themselves. He must have given such pause and caught himself before speaking so late that Edward noticed something. “What is it you have in mind?”

“It is nothing.” Lu said, “But the answer to that is still no: we can not tolerate war ships in Chinese ports.”

“If not military what about civilian?”

“We already do as per our commitments to trade and good business. What difference would it make that we take special precedent over the safety of civilian vessels?”

“It is only a matter of classification.” Edward said, “That the Chinese take on some soldiers. In a civilian capacity. No military duties; a refit and rearm. But this hole is dried up, should we continue the conversation at the next?”

“No, we can develop this train of thought on the way to the next. We should walk. Care for the walk?”

“Very well. You take the lead, your honor.”

Lu smiled, bowed, and started the walk to the next course, holding his putter under his arm as he went, “I think you have better options with asking the French for use of their colonial ports if it's just to provide soldiers for rest and relaxation from the front.”

Bitter, Edward sucked on air through his teeth and grumbled to himself. “Then is there nothing? You know the French, you know their condition. It would not be safe, and at best would become awkward.”

Xiu Lu laughed and looked over at the Briton, “I don't believe you could run out of ideas so soon.”

Edward though, stuffing his hands in his pockets while they strolled across the green. “What about Burma?” he asked.

“What about Burma?”

“As I recall, with the assistance of the British we helped the Chinese build a road through Burma to break the Japanese blockade. Now the end of that road spills out into India, and we can not trust the viability of India. But what if: the road went to Yangon? Along it: millions of pounds of supplies purchased by the British government to supply and boost our fighting lads. To the Japanese: it appears as a neutral co-operative effort between the Chinese Republic and its southern neighbors. If not Yangon, why shouldn't we also turn it south more to Bangkok, or split the road even?”

“Can this be something the British can manage?”

“Well I might be able to rally some creditors, that is without a doubt! A bonds sale for a road or a rail through Burma. It is a romantic idea. Could I have sufficient promises in capitol from you Chinese?”

“Not a subject I can authorize, but I can enlighten my peers.” they arrived at the furthest ball, but neither of them paid scant attention to whose it was.

“Yes, I think we could have a deal. I will have to immediately contact my counterparts there. It shall be a grand organization of Asian cooperation for mutual commercial development!”

“I will send word along, and will wait. But I must admit I am pessimistic.”

“Oh fear not, if there is one thing the Burmese want more: it's for money and free projects. I dare say: The Chinese might win more of this in the long run than us British. But at least it shall be the first few links in the chain to choke the life out of the Japanese.”
Nouveillie Machauex


Flag

<TBD>

Government Form:

Knight's Republic

Demographics:

Human
Elven
Pony (Equestrian, Unicorn, Pegasi)
Griffon
Beast-folk

Population:

11 Million

---
The Neveau d'Epiune


Plane Description:

Neveau d'Epiune or The Plane of the Horse is a land of great verdant fields, dramatic mountain ranges, wide gently flowing rivers, and great waterfalls. It has immense rolling deserts, and rolling dark seas. Its skies are blue, and filled with any manner of noble and ignoble beast. And most striking of all: it was inhabited before the opening of the rifts.

The whole of the world that the rift-walkers stepped into was much like that which they had left to escape cataclysm, were it not for the talking beasts.

The previous inhabitants referred to the world by a number of names. They had established societies and politics, all of which were disturbed and changed forever when the new inhabitants arrived.

History:

Prior to the cataclysm, the principalities of Machauex were relatively small. Their ancestral lands, as promising and vibrant as they were sundered by political feuding and the movement of dynastic politics. No single entity ruled the entire region permanently for any length of time before one way or another the Comtes, Marquis, and Dukes would invariably break it apart in the pursuit of personal glory and filial satisfaction. What arose from Machauex were kingdoms renowned for their knights and strength of their men at arms. The imposition of feudalism and serfdom made all the more rigorous by the centuries long warring states period that had persisted since the ancestral empire of the realm retreated and dissolved.

When the Cataclysm arose over the world, the princes of Machauex had just begun to be again unified under the wizard King Gourard l'Mainx, who had managed to assemble around him a court of diligent ministers and priests of the Three Fold God. Gourard l'Mainx had begun a system of reform in his principality to turn over the old authorities of the knights that continually propelled the realm into further war by bringing them centrally to court and occupying their jealous time in other pursuits. But the tearing apart of the world and the opening of the great Rift Gates threw the king, and much of the people in world's beyond to seek respite and shelter from what foul hell was being visited upon their home. For his efforts thus, and misfortune to have to throw his people beyond the known world he became known by two names, The King of Misfortune or The King In Two Places. Gourard would not survive the travel between the universes, and would thus be trapped forever in limbo between the two worlds. His son, Dagdeux l'Mainx would pick up the pieces.

Stepping beyond the gates the people of Machauex would be greeted by a world familiar, but all the more stranger than their own. Deposited upon a great empty island, they would go half a decade without learning of the world beyond their shores as they set upon building their new home. What they built would be the now sepulcher ruined yet holy city of Isle d'Gourard, a site of pilgrimage to their primordial gate in the centuries to follow to recite poetry dedicated to the homes they had been cast out from, and of the glories and conquests their heroes will surely have in resettling the castles and ravines of their ancestors. But until then, a city needed to be built.

The island they found was well stocked, at least for the initial duties. The ministers of Gourard confided in Dagdeux that they believed there would not be enough supplies to feed the entirety of the people as-was for three years. While the island could be parceled out, farm lands set aside and timber lands cleared they did not have the seed to set about in agriculture. The forage on the island may not last a year, the grass not much longer than the year after, before they are reduced to starving on the crumbs of wheat, barley, and livestock they had before succumbing to cannibalism. Dagdeux wisely took the warnings serious, and called a parlement of the surviving nobles and of significant persons to charter a plan. The deliberations took place in the shelter of Dagdeux, who was put up in a cave high up over the great rift, now dead and ashen. There they dined together, drank together, and deliberated for forty days and forty nights. At one point in frustration, when it seemed the egos of the nobility would get the worst of them he called off all rations, save for breakfast and rain water that if this is how the nobility intended to behave he would sentence all the survivors to eat and drink this way until they all died, or the situation stabilized. A faction of nobles sought to call his bluff, and entered into a game of stamina and tolerance with him that last near twenty days of the proceedings; at the end five died of ill-health, chief among them the leader of the anti-Dagdeux faction the Comte D'Aoir Lacel Ijon. This satisfied the rebel faction, and they complied and even swore themselves to service at level of peasant if it meant they might finally eat.

What came out of the cave was known as the Charter of Caves, and outlined the settling plan and the development of their future as far ahead as man could see. It outlined a strict duty of labor, and that from this moment until the future there was full abandonment of noble privileged. For the first year, the people were permitted a diet of only the fish caught off the shore of the island, and a rationing of the cooked supplies that had followed them through the gate. Through that year, there would be consumption of farmed grain, and would be merely recycled into the next year's seed crop. Theft of stores would be punishable by death, and save for the insects of the earth and of the trees every man and woman would be permitted two meals, save for pregnancy where the woman would be fed thrice. Families would be expected to raise only two children into adult hood, exceptions could be pleaded to Dagdeux and his court, but any birth of additional children when there were two already surviving would be killed, or the mother forced to abort. The forests would be strictly managed, no private quarters would be observed, the people must bivouac in the caves and the wood farmed from the forests would be put into ship building. The demands and the laws went on, but they were horrifying. But stricken in their own way by agony, to challenge the sword of the king Dageux was more terrifying than facing up to the gods and they were followed.

The years to come were hard and terrifying. There was no pleasure trapped in their desert of the island but the land was tamed to the will of man and the farms expanded. Instead of wood, the people made huts from mud and rock, strapped together with moss. They began to resemble wild men, naked except for their skirts of grass and wool. As they too spread out over the island and developed it the true scope of the island's resources became known and the Charter of Caves could be relaxed and reconsidered as before the court Dagdeux was presented with the signs of plentiful flax and metals and fine wild animals. And while things were terrible and trying, the people survived even though there was not a day without bodies to be fed to the birds in terrible, rank burial to the sky. A small rocky butte off the coast became known as the island of crows, as the birds flew so thick over it in waiting of bodies it was cloaked in black and screamed all day and night.

On the fifth year a great sigh visited upon the exiled islanders and it terrified and hypnotized the people. Flying high in the sky above them a winged horse, a pegasi as orange as fire circled about them seeming to observe the inhabitants of what it must have thought was a once emptied island. Many stepped out to gaze at its shimmering wings as it flew about the island, as many cowered in their shelters in fear of it. It's visit was only brief, and as suddenly as it had appeared it disappeared into the sunset. Dagdeux and his ministers were summoned by the people for guidance, and they could not answer. The week after it appeared again, guiding several more who appeared clad in barding. They persisted only for a while, and also disappeared before those angered at them came with their spears and bows directed up at them. Puzzled by their appearance Dagdeux took to the mountains at the island's heart to meditate and seek his father's distant spirit and wisdom in the either between the worlds. There he was spotted by a lime-green pegasi who landed tentatively near him, keeping a distance, it watched the strange visitor in intelligent eyes and pulled back away from him if he drew too close. On the ground it was that Dagdeux noticed the creature was small for the all familiar horse of his people, just larger than a small dog. He spoke to it, and he found it recognized language, but did not recognize the language Dagdeux spoke. In a fury of emotion, he rose to demand of it if it understood, where it was they were, and what the plan of the Three Fold God was. The sudden outburst frightened the creature, and it retreated high into the peaks, but Dagdeux persisted in his efforts and made to encamp in the mountains until it returned.

And return it would. Night by night it would come to Dagdeux's camp and listen to him as he spoke slowly to establish a rapport. He told the being the names of nature around him, the name of himself and the names of man and elf. The people worried, because for months their king remained in isolation on the mountain. At the end of three months, the pegasi's eyes seemed to light on an idea, and without a word it took flight, and flew out over the island to whence it came. Having the impression that his efforts were over, the king left the mountains and returned to his people and informed them as to what happened.

It would not be another several months that the flying horse would be sighted. In the mean time it began to be suspected that the creature and its kin were of no harm and talk began that they were in the realm of the Three Fold God, and that the creature they witnessed was, or related to the stead that pulled her chariot: Eponeux. Whether it was the whole race, or any one of the four that they had seen did not matter. They began to call the name Eponeux in song at night, and ritual returned to the island as joy did. Idle men and craftsmen began to carve icons of winged horses in the soft stones they found and they were taken as personal idols. A proposal to carve for Dagdeux a large statue of a horse was made, until he reminded them they still had yet to survive, the harvests were still insubstantial, winter still claimed many lives and it would not be wise to go into such things until the first houses could be built and the matter was settled. But the people called him de l'Eponeux; Dagdeux de l'Eponeux l'Mainx.

When the Pegasi returned, the people were much left aggressive towards it. On its back it carried a satchel. And above the people it cried, “Day-doo! Day-doo! No harm! Day-doo, I, go!”

The spectacle was taken as a sign, and those who were near to the cave of Dagdeux rushed to watch the strange beast land and stand before the king, and with an agile twitch of its head produce for the king a long cotton sheet, deftly embroidered to cover his naked form, otherwise clad in rough linens like a primitive man from the oldest of times and bid him to ride on its back. And with a flury of the winds, the pegasi with strength surprising everyone there took off into the air and stole away the king before the eyes of many.

Dagdeux's journey over the sea took him out over vast dark oceans, not empty of life, and clutching dear to life onto the main of the horse he looked down at the seas and saw the teeming life, the whales and great shoals of fish the size of cities and all the schools of marine life he had not reference for. And as they went he saw the ships, the great wooden cogs and galleons of kingdoms unknown that to his notice were crewed by equines and other strange beasts that resembled animals in their form. With the speed of the wind in his ears, they passed over to land, where the coasts were cut by delicate and idyllic roads, there were limitless orchards and farms. Small towns with caravans passing between them, and the many great dramatic sights of the land to the mountains at the country's interior, where he was delivered to a palace in the mountains, and deposited before – and he could have no been so surprised – a court of unicorns.

With they in their palatial uniforms, and imperial armors, and he in his rags before them he was subjected to terse interviews, a clarifying of words more than what the green one had brought. He was stolen away from his people again for a month on a month, and then months until the snows began falling. They exchanged their words until an understanding could be had, and he was sent home on a great chariot, with supplies of food; oats and barley, apples and pears, so much cloth the chariot was a shooting star in even mid day. He had alcohol and water, tools and instruments. And he came back home with assurances of their survival and he landed with fanfare and questions and most important of all: knowledge of the world beyond and alliances with the inhabitants.

Dagdeux had been delivered to the Court of Afternoons, the seat of the Mayflower dynasty, the local royal house that rules the Central Maritimes. They were not hostile benefactors, and learning of the mystery on the uninhabited islands in their waters peaked their interest. The court promised the newcomers to their realm survival and prosperity into perpetuity so long as they declared their loyalty to them, and Dagdeux seeking for such survival agreed.

As the relationship with the mainland deepened, the island developed. Soon it was able to develop to exchange, and the metals of the island were brought forth and forged for their benefactors. A word arose to describe them, the Equinites of which they drew distinction between three: the Equine, the Pegasi, and the Unicorn. Under the tutelage of the Equinites, the Isle d'Gourard became a prosperous settlement, visited by merchants of the mainland. The people of it rarely leaving. Long after Dagdeux died it was believed that the rifts would open and they would simply walk home. But the time never came. Dagdeux's sons, of the family l'Mainx became known as the L'Mainx D'Isle family, and they ruled the island with the parlement of the former nobles, though as the years went on the members of the parlement changed as the old noble distinctions became unfamiliar.

It was however in the twilight of the Mayflower Dynasty that the men of the island would make themselves known at large. When peace fell in the realm and war came upon their shores in what became referred to as the War of the Twilight Crowns the men of the island took to the high seas in piracy and raiding for their benefactors until they slipped entirely from the scene. To the ancient nobles of the island, swashbuckling on the high seas became their own avenue to reclaim their heritage as Nobles of the Sword and they took out their fathers' swords and went to war once more, but upon galleon and caravel.

The centrality of the L'Mainx D'Isle family would itself fade in this era as noble families took to the sea and expanded their activities from simple petty raiding of rival ships and navies, to full scale war and they mounted an invasion of the mainland in their own way and their own adventurism. These pirate kingdoms recruited their forces from any number of places, from displaced levees of defeated noble-equines, or griffon and beast mercenaries from beyond. But their settlement allowed for the race of man and elf to spread out over the region, into the various “pirate kingdoms” that emerged on the mainland. But for them, the Isle d'Gourard was a special, spiritual place to them and every other year the nobles and their retainers would return to the parlemen at the rift gate, and from their exercise a form of unity across the seas and lands.

The dark age wrought by the dissolution of the Mayflower dynasty would only last short of a hundred years. During this time the complete loss of political unity on the mainland would serve as more an opportunity for the foreigners whose colonies expanded and formed their own strong political entities all the same. In this time the wisest storytellers and troubadours began to sing warnings of a return to the old ways. But the years of survival and influence of the Mayflowers had eroded and changed the barbarous spirit of the Machaoir. Dynastic power flowed much more civil, there were new heights of development, not least of all: that the minor nobility that came to inhabit these new lands of Nouveillie Machauex developed a taste much more aligned with labor.

And while the the old martial spirit never fully dissolved, still persisting in dueling societies, sport, and adventurism the activities of the nobles turned more to the development of one's gardens. Here they deployed their equine surfs to cultivating the finest of orchards and fields, to fill the table with the best food that can be prepared. What war there was was sparse and small, momentary settling of conflict not resolved by the parlement. The weight of humanoid society shifted from the Isle d'Gourard and to the mainland, and besides ritual purposes the island became sparsely populated by man; given over to only a few farming villages and their chateaus. This was the 278th year.

The political climate would shift again however, when the Duke d'Maretime went to war against the Marguis d'Doir, Jacque Darcan Simlioux. Marquis Simlioux had been elected in the year 352 of their arrival to lead the parlement and opened preceding with what he declared was a matter of most enlightened significance. Declaring that all species of Equinites were equal to that of man, and deserving of their own noble liberty in the realms that the body move to illegalize what had been since the fall of the Mayflowers a system of racial serfdom, where Equinites – and especially rival Equinites – were pressed permanently into a status equal to peasant across the realm, and denied privileges to property due to it. The Duke d'Maretime, Simon Riclou took offense to the proposal, claiming it offended his honor and standing and lead a spirited but ultimately failed attempt to block the proposal. When his faction was inevitably force out, he returned home and sought to over turn the decision by force and overturn what he considered “a heretical sect in the aristocracy” and immediately invaded the lands of Jacque.

The war was violent and bloody, and had not been seen in the lands since the dark ages after the Mayflowers. But in over seventy years of war, the forces of Simon Riclou were resoundingly defeated and for his victory the grandson of Jacque Darcan Simlioux, Charles “the Great” Simlioux was elected the first king of the Machaoir and the Equinites. The reign of Charles was marked by a great shift in social reform where the ranks of the people were shortened and remodeled. Titles of nobility of merit were enacted, granted a chance for upward mobility of anyone of any race of Equinite or Humanoid. The races of Griffon and Beast-folk were still however discriminated and tinged with a reputation of support for the Maretimites.

The liberal spirit of Charles reforms would not last for long however, and during the reign of Charles II the allocation of nobility by merit became much more a matter of cash money. Suddenly considerable rank could be gained by bringing money into the coffers and an era of raiding and piracy returned to the region. While Nouveillie Machauex was itself not raided by itself, the actions of crown sanctioned pirates earned the disrespect and ire of many of the kingdom's neighbors and war soon began again with the era of the Anti-Pirate Wars. Nouveillie Machauex would have its losses in one part of the world and its victories in another. In contemporary histories it is not regarded as a particularly advantageous period for the people politically. Any gains made in one front was lost in another. They were not wars centrally fought, and were ultimately lost as such with much censure. In the end, Charles II died. The cause of his death was highly suspected to be a curse or act of black magic from within his own castle.

The Pirate Wars would come to end as titles of merit no longer were issued. By Charles II's death the title of king was also not looked upon fondly and political prestige shifted again to the eternal parlement. While the office of the king still existed, it was reduced in its stature and forced to answer to the noble parlement. The chief factions that arose in the parlement in the post-war period was that of the Sword and that of the Purse. All members of the parlement were recognized as being knights of the realm at minimum, and would even routinely enlarge to encompass more. The factions of the parelement would even enlarge it in a bid to attract more Knights of the Purse or Knights of the Sword. The balance of power in the royal legislature was never permanently satisfied by such reform.

In the end, balance in the parelement would not be disturbed from its own games, but from outside the expected realm of politics. In the 400th year parelement member and minor legislature Honorable Sundown Horizon, a unicorn from the Commune Cille in the county Maretime was performing idle experiments when he described the functions of heat on a fluid, in particular mercury. In the end he wrote that a rise in heat was proportional to the volume of the liquid mercury in a vessel. The writing was submitted to colleagues at his local salon and forgotten about. But from the salon the experimental device would be passed around and in the 416 would find itself in the hands of brewers and winemakers the realm over that found it helped them perform a much more consistent work at their craft, and not only that but perfected the quality of their beer and wine. Brewing and winemaking in Nouveillie Machauex experienced a Renaissance and the streets of the realm were flooded with high quality drink. Wine houses and public houses opened all throughout cities and the local grain and the markets almost collapsed as the price of drink on the streets reached hitherto unknown lows and the prices of grains and fruits skyrocketed as they were purchased en'masse by the multitudes of new brewers. Forced to act in an emergency session, the parlement attempted to remedy the situation by enacting a series of price controls, pegging the price of alcohol at a higher rate than food, and lowering the price of grain artificially so that the peasants may eat. But this sudden attempt to control the market only collapsed it further, and forced to stave off famine direct government control had to be declared, far beyond the current capacity of the state. A period of famine engulfed Noveillie Macheaux and a series of civil disturbance rocked the country side known as The Great Fear, The Beer Wars, The Cider Wars, or The Great Grain Gone.

This turbulent period saw no central forces as was during the Pirate Wars, though the chaos was opportunistically sprung upon by romantic knights who pretended to sally forth across the country to do battle with just about whatever peasant army they might come across. Peasant militias often fought with each other, and the parlement and king fought over central control. In the end after a four month long “war” within the greater civil war the forces of the king were defeated by the parlement and the legislative body assumed total control of the ship of state. In a move to reform the body and increase efficiency of the parlement the 4,578 strong body of nobles voted to shrink itself down to a more managed 601. The hence retired nobles would take on the role of ministries with the mission of restoring order to their departments. And in the 443rd year the realm was deemed pacified and the situation returned to normal. Extensive infrastructural improvements were made to the realm to improve the flow of grain and fruit and alcohol to the cities and thus the brewers, but a strict limit on the total volume of alcohol in the realm was set and to be enforced by inspection. The amount of production was capped, though well over the dictated limit. This excess alcohol produced in realm was to be distributed abroad, and Nouveillie Machauex beer acquired a world renowned following and fetched high prices. Brewers and merchants who moved the goods made off well in foreign markets and money once again flowed into the realm as it had many times before, the economic crisis entirely forgotten.

Between the Brew Laws of 440 and the present moment, the limits have been steadily lessened. It has been realized that money made off brewing could be made off imports of foreign grains, and thus leaving native food stocks less important to the alcohol brewing. As such it's becoming more and more acceptable by the Knights of Parlement to consider abolishing the price controls on grain, although the move is unpopular among the commoners who consume it. And in the 500th year: the gate reopened. Songs of Gourard l'Mainx, of Eponeux, and the old country are being sung again. Pilgrims and spectators go to the gate to observe it from a distance, wondering what realm lies beyond its oblivion, and if the king of legend will stumble out of it, no longer lost in its limbo.

Culture and Society:


Nouveillie Machauex as a nation is dominated principally by the Macharoix, a demonym for both the elven and human migrants that escaped their ancient home from the tongues of the great cataclysm that destroyed their world. They stepped instead into a strange new world inhabited by sapient animals separated into Equinites and Beast.

Equinites simply and obviously refers to the inhabitants of an equine character, unicorns, pegasi, and seemingly normal horses. This race is differentiated from the contemporary horse by the range of color they take on, their intelligence, and anthropolic character; like the Macharoix they speak, dress, and otherwise act as the humanoid does just on four legs instead of two.

The other caste set aside is that of the Beast, who are likewise as intelligent as any of the rest but often less respected. These include griffons who often have a mercenary character to the Macharoix, and the Beast-Folk which encompass a large and diverse set of characters best considered “underground” or on the same level of the peasantry of old, if not even lower in some select cases.

The Macharoix initially came into this world as being scattered warlike nations, though even before the gates opened they were not entirely violent. Renowned in the ancient times as skilled crafstmen and artists their linens and pottery were sought after as well as their bronze and ironworks in their region of the “Low Lands”, though today none really remember what those lands ever were and may never remember. But while they have lost the barbaric edge they once had, the spirit persists in the romanticism and often rubs off onto the other races of the realm, especially in times or turbulence where any moment that permits it will rise the spirit of bored princes and their entourages to take up the sword and seek adventure, near or far.

The Macharoix also have an affinity for poetry and song, troubadours are a cultural institution from before the gate, and have always been present in court or along the roads and has even been enhanced and developed further by their Equinite peers that have the same or similar spirit.

They are also renown for their alcohol.

Governance and Politics:

Nouveillie Machauex is ruled primarily by the Parlement, the Speaking Body as it were. This singular body elects the ministers of government who run as an executive council. While the activities of the parlement are public knowledge, they are not freely elected and are composed of a rotation of members from the nobility, who since the defeat of the King during the Great Fear has been capped at Marquis. But even below a diverse range of noble title exist, and titles are issued by election of confidence and competence for when a citizen of the realm performs a feat of respect, or more often brings in considerable coin.

The chief member of the ministry is known as the Duke of State, and his second hand – or hoof – man/stallion/woman/mare is the Marquis of State.

Technology and Magic:

The relative technological state of Nouveille Machauex can be considered “late medieval”. I don't feel like getting into the weeds.

The practice of and theory behind magic to the Machavoix as adopted from the Equinite beliefs is that all creatures have inherent magic to them, reflective of their capacities as a living creature and development of an individual. Applied among the Equinites, it serves as sweeping generalizations of how each sub-set is how they are, giving unicorns their magical abilities besides simply levitation or the capacity of pegasi to fly despite their weight-to-wingspan rations being often "Bumblebee" in character. The humanoids who passed through the gate either carried with them the same 'element' of magic, or adopted it when they arrived to the plane. And while for all known intents and purposes everything possess magic, not all are able to fully realize it, let alone hone it for practical use purposes, and further train it to specific ends; pegasi and unicorns may perhaps be the only two races to at minimum realize their most basic magical capacity as fact of life.

Military Overview:

In general, Nouveille Machauex operates still a levee system of military recruitment. When and if needed a selection of service-aged males will be drawn from the population, given rudimentary training, and armed with one of two weapons: the pike or the crossbow. Additional armament is up to the individual leveeman who may purchase additional armor. Sometimes through the wealth and generosity of the nobles brigandine armor and barding may be set aside for the levees.

There is also throughout the realm a system of personal and Parlement Levees, who act as the standing regular and professional men at arms and hoof at arms of the state. These units are often small, but far better armed and armored than the levees through the purses of their lord or the state funds itself. The equipment set aside for these units can range from brigandine of a much higher and heavier caliber than that of the levees, or full plate armor and any matter of weapons from the long bow, war hammer, sword, lance, or mace.
@Dinh AaronMk no offense but that sounds like a war not a fight


What is war but a sequence of fights (and plentiful maneuver)
I am itching for a good fight!


Unembarrassed promotion time

>join precipice of war
>apply to somewhere either in: British Caribbean/South America not Belize, Western Russia, SE Asian Pacific (and weep over the absence of our Japan and Dutch players)
>fight obtained
Hello sister, my dearest, how are you?
The roads at home must be covered by the snowstorms.
Stars are falling in Grozny's dawn sky,
Just don't tell mom I'm in Chechnya.
I take five hits of Krokdile and become a skeleton immediately.
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