The Annals of Old (Closed/IC)

[Chekovenezia]

A map of the region

The year was 103, and Perathor II, the Grand Merchantate of Chekovenezia, knew his time would soon come.... it was a true blessing of Rassul, the God of Time, that he had lived to the age of 80, and had for 50 years guided the Mercantile Republic into a peaceful, prosperous era. But the weight of old age was heavy indeed over his shoulders, and he predicted that he had less than 2 weeks of life left in him. Perathor looked out of his Jungun (Chekovenizian for Palace) and at the sea, where trading vessels could be seen in the distance. Piracy was a big threat nowadays, and the Merchantate resolved to put an end to it before he expired....

[Ancient Perstra]

Artaxerxes (Artix for short) was cheerful. His people had just gone exploring and had sighted a mountain.
Another claim to his land, and to his reign. He smiled to himself. Only having being placed into this position, Duke of Perstra, Artix I saw this as a sign from above, showing him the path of true light.

Only his weakness. He liked land. He like prosperity. Artix the First was 42. A middle-aged man but prone to weaknesses. His Decaharem was always frivolous with parties and so forth, but he. He did not spend ALL his time there.

Artix was usually in his Militarikh discussing exploring, and whenever his people came across semi-inhabited or inhabited lands, he took the people in, and gave them lodgings, promised privileges and whatnot. He liked to be gracious. Hmm...tat could fit nicely as his title. Aritx I the Gracious...




But today... today was different.
General Turyl Manothess came rushing in. Apparently, his group had been out scouting when they sighted a ship of sorts. It had come ashore and had provided Manothess with a letter.

He read it quickly, seeing it as some sort of trade agreement. He signed it and then demanded to go with Manothess back to the ship......

[Chekovenezia]

The Captain of the galley Igyorevich had loaded up the supplies in the port of Scola and was preparing to leave when suddenly an entourage of armored cavalry approached him. Putting his hands on his hips, he approached the rider closest to him, the one in ornate ceremonial armour - however, as soon as he took a step forward, the guards drew their swords and told him to kneel to the Duke of Perstra.....

[Impalia]

The Sovaland war-band trudged through the snow. They Sovlanders named after the frozen land they occupied. They were a collaboration of city states underneath the rule of The "Naader" of the nation of Sovaland, they were loosely governed by the central government in most cases only following the leader to war, and when taxes are needed. The warband under the house of Kurass (Snow Hawks) were heading to the warm sea port of Ondroloh to participate in a raid.

[Chekovenezia]

Emissary Enrico rubbed his hands together for warmth as his diplomatic galley docked at Niffelheim, the capital of Sovaland. It was a inhospitable, ice-bound land - hard conditions which bred hard people. These pirates and barbarians frequently raided shipping lines of all nations - plundering without discrimination. Well not for long. The Emissary was to create a trade agreement with these uneducated heathens - fur and timber for leather and rock, as well as livestock....

[Impalia]

Naader Mulfrik glanced down at the emissary name Enrico with disdain. These foolish Chekovenezians, always wanting trade, always wanting more money. But his proposition was reasonable. Fur and timber were plentiful in Sovaland whilst lifestock and leather was extremely rare, however offering to trade rocks, seemed to be a foolish proposition. After all there were plenty of rocks in Sovaland too. He clenched his hand tightly on the hilt of his sword angry at the amount of blabber the emissary seemed to need to explain such a simple proposition. We promise not to attack your cargo, ships provided that they fly a red pennant with "Night" enscribed on them. Of course these pennants could be aqquired for a small price of 50 Gold pieces from the port at Niffelheim. Mulfrik smiled cunningly to himself. Not that these pennants could offer any protection to Sovland Raiders if they were desperate.

[Ancient Perstra]

"All present, BOW! I present you Artaxerxes III, Leader of the Perstrans!" He inclined his head slightly. A scroll of parchment was passed to him and a sort of quill. Artix however, scowled at the servant. "Not yet!"... He gestured his guards to exit the room. Artix took his glasses down...

"We must discuss trade agreements!"

...an hour and a dozen teacups later...

It had been settled. Perstra would receive raw stone material, precious stones, livestock, weaponry, armour and wood; and, in return, Perstra would give recipe and ingredients for Water-resistant Fire (tar, saltpetre, pine resin, quicklime, sulphur, crude oil), spices, tea, sugar and clear purified glass. The trade agreement was made official and signed. And then, the merchant bowed and his party was off again.


MEANWHILE, in SCOLA:

Callun, a horseman in the cavalry had just come home after training.
His horse, tired and nearly sick with exhaustion, came galloping and took off a whole strip of bark from the tree outside his home. Curses, Lightfoot!! You could have killed me!!!

He brought the horse to a stop and then led it to the stables, locking it up for the night.
Callun then walked slowly back to the tree where he had dropped his weapons..."that's odd!", he said aloud.

He saw droplets of sap slowly dripping onto the bark, and then he had an idea.
Bringing it in to his room, Callun stripped the bark into even thinner layers and got some crushed blackberry from the larder.
He dipped a twig into the "unk" (Perstran for "crush") and began to write his name!,
"WHOA!", this had been much smoother, a more easier way to write!! He called his invention "Opupar" (meaning "accident") and smiled to himself. This might make him famous!. All night, Callun tossed and turned, however, thinking of a way of further refining the bark to something even better...


--- --- --- ---

Callun leapt out of bed. He could smell breakfast downstairs.."How are you today, honey!"...He blinked. Callun could not believe it was so simple!!

The stuff in the opupar was good to write upon, so why not extract it in the form of pulp and then put it in the honey wax processing barrel!! This had a kind of vertical wood with a direct cut right in the middle, where you pushed the wax into it and the honey was squeezed out of it into the barrel below. He tried it, but came out with a mushed up pile of pulp.. "Ew!! That's gross, What are you doing, Callun!", said his wife. Callun smiled and left his pulp there, forgetting it until he came back home for lunch.

By that time, however, the pulp had dried and Callun excitedly went to his room, bringing the pulp with him. He could now write really easily!!!

He did not, however, plan to show his new invention immediately. He would wait for further direction from Above... ...

[Chekovenezia]

2 weeks later

Having successfully signed a trade agreement with the Sovalanders and the Perstrans, Perathor II was elated, but now, the octogenarian Grand Merchantate was confined to his bed, dying. His two most likely successors, Rebnon of Ostagar and Rickhe the Red were administratively inept and too warlike. Thus, Perathor had ordered their assasinations with a hoarse whisper - to safeguard the future of the Republic......

Meanwhile, in the city of Venicia, Rickhe Ashtley the Red was indeed very red, having a drinking contest with a stranger. Then he started to choke, as the stranger watched, calmly observing. Rickhe then realised, too late, that he was being killed by poison. Thus, the Duke of Mirrano perished.....

Rebnon, meanwhile, was far more lucky. The assasins had tried to best him in combat, and now they were dead. Rebnon rode now for Chekovia City, to enter the Council Chambers and be present to buy votes when Perathor succumbed to old age..........

[Ancient Perstra]

A cloaked figure darted this way and that, armed only with his precious copper knives, 24 in total..

He took off his black cloak, and scrubbed his face with a little dirt. He was on a secret mission by orders of the Duke. While the Duke had been discussing with the merchant, Dantes, he had come to the knowledge that a certain Rebnon would inevitably succeed the dying Perathor. The Duke was determined to rid the peaceful nation of its evil successor, and had chosen the most skilled knifeman in the Duchy to seek Rebnon out...

The Igyorevich 's crew was in the Pub on the Quay. Easy enough!, he thought to himself.. He slipped in, and immediately grabbed a crewman, and yanked him outside into an alley. Quickly slitting his throat and stuffing him into a bag, Mysterius (for that was his name) chucked the bag into the river. Then, he straightened his back, stretched a little and went straight to the Igyorevich to enquire about any openings in jobs that needed to be filled...

[Chekovenezia]

Dante, the Captain of the Igoryevich woke his crew before sunrise and sent them on their way out of the pub. It was time to return to the Republic. They had a new rower, after Jodl Krebs went missing the previous day - a fellow by the name of Yemne Cartron - sporting a black cloak and with a face covered in dirt. Dante took the helm of the galley, which was laden with the Republic's first imports of Magic Fire, Spices, Glass and Sugar and ordered the crew to row - a journey which would take around a week, even more, depending on how frequently they came ashore to resupply and whatnot.

[Ancient Perstra]

Mysterius needed to keep his ears open. At the moment, he had befriended a friendly burly rower by the name of Gano Brunz. Gano was quite informed about the political situation back in Chekovia and referred to Perathor as wise and good. However, the whereabouts of Rebnon was still unknown to Mysterius. He gave a nearly audible sigh, and continued rowing. . .

[Chekovenezia]

One week later

Perathor II had finally kicked the bucket - he had passed away. In Chekovia, the Council of Nobles had convened to elect a new leader.... it was to this very Council that Rebnon of Ostagar was walking to right now, with an entourage of Militiamen armed with kukris and round shields.

Meanwhile, about 700 metres away, the Igorevich had docked at the Swan Docks.....

[Ancient Perstra]

Mysterius sprinted up the roads of West Chekovia. He only just arrived. He quickly knelt and prayed to Rassul the God of Time. He needed time. Time to know what he looked like, where he was, who he was with.

And, almost like a miracle from heaven, he overheard a group of people turning into an alleyway, discussing something "...election...probably...Rebnon". Intrigued, Mysterius followed them and to his amazement, there was an important man, being escorted by about 8-12 guards. He quickly asked the last guard, who was slobbering like a "spad" (Perstran for: mentally disabled), who the man was. As soon as he heard that he was Rebnon, Mysterius gulped. Took a dozen knives out and threw them over the heads of the unknowing guards, and slightly to the right, in order to curve and hit Rebnon. Ten of the knives hit his torso, two hitting the neck and head.

He ran.

[Chekovenezia]

"Lord Rebnon!" the Captain cried, as Rebnon went down with 12 knives in him. He was dead. The Captain held two of his men back to guard the body and gestured at the other guards to follow him - "After him!" They chased him through winding streets and alleys - almost catching up, when the assassin disappeared into a marketplace. The Captain paused to look around..... then... there! The assassin's black cloak was a dead giveaway, and the guards once again gave pursuit, knocking civilians who got in the way to the ground. A archer guard, posted in the rooftops to provide security, spotted the commotion and saw that his fellow guards were chasing a black cloaked figure. He let loose two arrows, the first one missing, and the second one hitting the man in black in the leg. The guards caught up and captured him. The assassin had a lot to answer for.....

[Ancient Perstra]

Mysterius hadn't counted on the fact that he would be caught, but now he was caught.

[Chekovenezia]

Lord Viceroy Palaigos entered the dungeon. The assassin was chained to the ceiling and covered with bruises, cuts and burn marks. He turned to the Militiaman.
"Leave us."
The Militiaman gave a bow and left the cell, closing the door behind him.
Palaigos studied the assassin. A muscular man with hard eyes which suggested that Rebnon was not his first prey.
"Who ordered you to kill to Duke of Mantua?"
The assassin looked up, with a bemused look on his face. Or, it would have been bemused if he wasn't in such pain. The Lord Viceroy stared into the man's eyes for a few more moments, waiting for him to speak. After seeing that the assassin would not speak, Palaigos punched the killer square in the face.
"I will not ask again, who ordered the killing of the Duke?"
Palaigos was about to deliver another blow, but then stopped when the assassin opened his mouth to speak.....

[Ancient Perstra]

...Mysterius had a sensibility that only came when needed, after all, so you couldn't blame him...

"My good sir, Rassul has ordered me to kill the man. I had a heavenly vision of such that the prosperity of Chekovia would be desperately lost once such a man came to power. Seeking him out only by my mind, the thread between him and I became ever closer as I seeked to embark on this journey. Mercy, please!"

[Chekovenezia]

Palaigos was furious. The assassin, a cold blooded murderer, dared to invoke the name of the benevolent God of Time in his defense!
He unleashed all his anger onto the assassin, kicking and punching him, until he was satisfied that the assassin was in the maximum threshold of the human tolerance for pain. He then had the Captain of the Igorevich brought in to testify that this man was recruited in Perstra - a valuable link....

[Ancient Perstra]

By now, Mysterius had succeeded. It was his childhood folly and now was to be his last hope. Claiming Gold every year from kindergarten to the end of schooling, Mysterius had won the Gasbomb Championships. And now, he was to use it. Mysterius then let it rip, a full 18 seconds of putrid and choking odours filled the dungeon cell. Mysterius, of course, had by now developed a kind of nasal resistance to it.

[Chekovenezia]

Palaigos, acting as the highest ranking officer of the Chekovenezian Militia, declared martial law and prepared the nation for a possible war, which may or may not occur depending on the reactions of Perstra to the Republic's accusations. The Assassin was being sent by a rather large fleet to Perstra, where the Grand Marshal in charge of the expedition, Garithos, would demand an explanation from Perstra's Duke.....

[Ancient Perstra]

The Duke had by now received word. Alarmed, he sought his Advisor. "My Duke, if it would be in the best interests of our nation, I suggest we renounce Mysterius, pretend he was a traitor and seek friendly terms with Chekovenezia once more!"

The Duke weary after creating another 8 children the previous night, sat down and nodded his head in agreement, too tired to argue...

[Chekovenezia]

Grand Marshal Garitos smiled when he heard that Mysterius was a traitor to Perstra. He immediately told the Perstran messenger to tell his masters to execute Mysterius personally, in full view of the Republic's troops.....

[Ancient Perstra]

Since Mysterius had Plan B as suicide, it was no surprise to him when he learned that he would be transported back to his homeland to be executed.

He nodded gravely to his people, his wife, his family, and be forever remembered, even as a "traitor". He knelt at the Dukes feet, the Duke giving a wry smile. Duke Artix had the axe at the ready, and promptly did the deed, and washed his hands in the blood.

It was done. The traitor had been executed.

The nearby Republic's troops cheered as they had never before, before returning to their ships ready to embark back to Chekovia...

[Ancient Perstra]

The very next day, Artix awoke finding himself in the middle of the ocean. It seemed that he been placed upon a raft and towed miles and miles out to sea. And left to die.


The Perstran people never would accept such a violent and untruthful leader. Yes, they hated traitors, No, they did not sanction merciless execution in public. The Grand Vizier had stepped up to the job, and Artix's eldest would take his place as the advisor.

[Chekovenezia]

Lord Viceroy Palaigos was elected as the new Grand Merchantate. The people were celebrating the end of the 2 week interregnum. The new Grand Merchantate made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of the assassination of Rebnon of Ostagar, who was also the Duke of Mantua, and thus started to whip people into a frenzy about the "evil Perstrans." Had their Duke not willingly, but also sadistically executed one of his own subjects? A nation of monsters it was!