New Civilizations ( IC, Open )

[Hanafuridake]

Grace Kinoshita (9 years 6 months)

Imperial Quarters

I sat at the small table, trying my best not to lose focus as I moved the ink brush around the woodblock. My attendant, a slave girl of around nine, watched curiously, too aware of her station to interrupt me. 戌子, Inuko, the Dog Girl, that was what I named her. She was too young to know the name that her parents had given her. I didn't remember myself, I had blotted most of their culture and names out of my mind. To wipe every trace and mention of them from everyone's. Until they were only known as the people who had crossed me and learned the consequences.

“What is it?” the girl finally squeaked, childish curiosity conquering fear in the end. I ignored her until I finished, which was around an hour later.

“A tank.” more specifically, the Type 97 Chi-Ha. A tank that I had been obsessed with as a child. I remembered putting together miniature models of the vehicle for hours. My father had supposed to take me to a museum to see the vehicle on my twelfth birthday, but he never did. One of his broken promises.

“Is it... real?” it seemed hard for her to accept that such a thing could exist.

“In my world,” I replied, thinking back. I set the brush down and decided to let the ink dry. “Unfortunately we won't be able to build one here. I'm not an engineer. I don't know how to make steel, an engine, or other components.” I was talking to myself more than I was her, because I knew she didn't know half the words that I just said. “Now that's enough. We have a council meeting soon.”

---

Council Room
Inuko

I, that is to say, me, Inu, stood besides the guard at the door while my mistress and her ministers sat at the table and started to discuss matters of state.

“Uesama, I am loathe to call this to your attention.” Haru said adopting the air of modesty and self-effacement which was how she ordinarily presented herself to Grace. I knew it was fake, I didn't know how she couldn't. “But without an heir to the throne, the people are becoming quite agitated. The nobles and military factions will start trying to curry favor with you.”

Grace became slightly annoyed, and I smirked a little to see the minister flustered. “Nothing has changed, Ruyanpe is still my heir. You need to find her and bring her back. Or perhaps I need to find someone who can.” she stated, leaning her head against her hand as she glanced at Susam and the other ministers. Shinryu the funny priest was playing with his robes. “Anyone who can find me Ruyanpe - alive - will receive an ennoblement and five acres of land with a dozen slaves.”

Normally Haru would be too craven to continue the conversation, but this must have been urgent on her mind. “Until then, Uesama, would it not be wiser to appoint an interim heir?” Haru bowed her head. “You almost lost your life at the Battle of Okayama. If it weren't for the august grace of the Buddhas and Kamuy, the empire would have crashed against the rocks and died. Please understand the predicament.”

“You, dog.” Grace called and I obediently walked to her. “My ministers don't seem to listen to me when I tell them what to do. What do you think I should do with them.”

“You could... cut their heads off.”

Grace looked at Haru with a smile on her face. “It doesn't seem the girl likes you very much. Badger me again and I'll make her my heir.” the minister said nothing, and the Mikoto clapped her hands and rose. “I'm tired today, I think I'm going to depart.” the ministers bowed their heads as she left the room, with me following quickly after.

[New Arcadius]

Gaukhar Erzhanova

Year 1, Month 4, Week 2

Chapter 4 - Preparing for War

Siwa Oasis
The army was still preparing for war against the Qara. But even still, there seemed to be some people that had spoken to me today that expressed to me that an old man was not very satisfied with how this entire situation was going. I could understand why. However, I didn't have any time to break down if we were already organized and were prepared to attack the Qara Oasis. Indeed, there may be some cousins among them, but sacrifices had to be made, and I knew this.

Through the complaints of some of the village folks came, especially when it comes to me being involved, since I was foreign and looked nothing like them, I had to press on. We had managed to gather around 15 of our strongest warriors and hunters, as well as about 3 women who were eager to join our cause, ready to fight the Qara. It took about a few weeks to have them get ready and prepare for battle. Some probably never had experienced war at first hand, but it was something that had to be done. For too long, the Qara had seemed to had always try to attack and wipe them out, stealing their food. Siwa was pretty fertile in dates and wild game, so it was pretty obvious that Qara, a much smaller oasis, was going to take advantage of this.

Although I wasn’t the master at military strategy or anything of that sort, I knew how historical formations looked like, and made sure that the other generals followed through with them. Armed with stone, I made sure that there was enough spearmen and archers to form the ranks, for it seems that they’ll be throwing their spears rather than using them to jab.

I took a good look at the men, and some of them looked kind of worried. These men were of that old man, Geurgrim’s blood. He had a renowned and large family here in the oasis, but they chose to volunteer to finally get their vengeance on the Qara for all they had done to the Siwa in the past. The old man himself had seen many things that I would not expect that would be occurring in the oasis. I need to make sure that his trust is won, and that I am capable.

But I wasn’t doing this for my own ambitions. I never desire to become an overlord, nor to rule anyone. This was all in the interests of the Chieftess, and the people of the Siwa Oasis. I sought to only further the ambitions of the Isiwan, and possibly one day, mark it as a powerful empire that would stretch to the far corners of the world. I could never last even a month trying to rule anyone due to the trust levels I have. Keeping a smile on my face is pretty hard to do, and to regards with all of that paperwork... and sitting inside all the time? No thank you. I'd prefer to be outside, riding around and being free. As an adviser however, I can do indeed, and I am satisfied to be that to the Chieftess.

In this case, however, I couldn’t let down the Isiwan, since I had done much for them in the past months now. It was already too late for me to turn my back on them and run away. No, this is a trial I have to deal with. The lives of many are depending on me to succeed in this war, and this war will determine the outcome of the future of the Siwa.

“Gaukhar!”

A male voice that I recognized came out. Of course, it was Magher, who else? He came up to me as I was still lost in thought, glaring blankly forth at the fixing of my freshly made stone blade. I looked up at his eyes.

“Gaukhar, our men are prepared. Masuna and Iafis had been hard at work trying their best to train them for the past month. We await you to bless them, and for us all to be safe.”

Bless them?... crap… this was something I wasn’t prepared for. I was still a practitioner in Islam, and they know that. But I don’t think Magher does. I looked troubled for a moment, before hearing his voice again.

“Gaukhar?... are you okay?”

“Magher, I… I am not aware of your religious ceremonies here. I… I don’t follow the same God you do. I don’t think your mother told you. I am a practitioner of Islam, and I do not follow the same ceremonies as you do.”

He was dumb founded. “Islam?... That sounds like a name of a mother or something. It’s a very nice sounding name honestly.” he said smiling. I rose a brow.

Come to think of it, it did sort of sounded very maternal. I did had this conversation with the Chieftess about that a few months ago or so. I can’t really recall, but it did made sense in a way, honestly. I scratched my chin for a moment… if there truly was no practitioners of Islam around here, then maybe… Hmn…

“I-I’ll tell you more about it later if you are interested. For now, teach me what I must do to help bless your soldi- warriors.”

I forgot that we weren’t at that stage of even calling them soldiers. But I feel that there could be another approach to this. I almost feel horrible that we must have to fight the Qara. Some of these men don’t even look happy at all to face against them, nor the people around here that may have families. From what I heard, the old man didn’t had good vibes about the situation either. I got up and looked at Magher. He smiled.

“Very well. You throw sand at their faces and reach out like this.” he began to pluck my face and wiggled his fingers. I found it a very… strange way to do things like that.

“Wouldn’t that hurt their eyes? It doesn’t look very holy to throw sand at someone’s face.”

“Sahel’s kiss will give them the courage to fight, and survive in the desert. To be one with the desert, you must feel it!”

I shook my head at this logic… it would have been much easier if I used a palm leaf and blessed them that way.

I walked over to the warriors with Magher and glanced at the other two. I looked at the warriors who were all prepared, and stiffly stood still. I silently breathed in and sighed.

“I know many of you do not wish for war to come between us and the Qara. But heed me on this. From what I had learned of your history with them, the Qara had constantly raided and attacked your people, stealing food, pillaging whatever they can find here. Think of this war as an act of revenge, for honour and to repay the cowardliness the Qara had caused upon you. If we win this war, we will prove to them that we are no pushovers, that we, the Isiwans, are not to be bullied nor pressured to be constantly attacked! Maybe then, we can make them settle for peace, and the end of the raids. Maybe even have them integrate into our tribe, expanding our oasis’ influence even further! All I ask for you, is to put trust into the four of us, and to follow orders. That is all.”

I raised my fist in as a symbol of trying to get them to cheer, but I don’t think they knew what I was doing, so I let out a hard roar. Following this, I got a surprising reply of the warriors roaring alongside me. It was horrifying, but yet again, it was war. I never personally had to experience, nor commanded a war… but here I am. I have a feeling this will cause me trauma for the rest of my life, but it would feel satisfying if we actually won… I just hope I don’t die.

I begun to went towards them and grasped the sand from the ground… I didn’t wanted to do this to them… I sighed and shook my head. Instead, I went towards a palm tree that was nearby, pulled it down and took a palm leaf. I was going to do it the way that I remembered a documentary did. Blessing those with it, and granting them the blessings of God. I can’t help it, I thought the whole sand throwing thing was too… barbaric to me. I had to make something new to break them from said belief, and slowly indoctrinate this new religious ideal, while incorporating it with their native beliefs. I started to bless them the same way that they would do with the sand, but only with a palm leaf. I did the same hand gestures as Magher showed me. I got some strange looks from the other three, but they didn’t seem bothered by it as I would expect. I would continue to do this until finishing with Magher. He glanced at me and tilted his head.

“Why didn’t you threw the sand?” he asked.

“As I said, it will hurt the eyes. Trust me, it’s better this way. Besides, the Sahel will bless you more with better vision.”

I gave him a nod, and took out my short stone sword, which wasn’t even big, but it was enough for me to point and give orders from. I raised my sword, and pointed towards the direction of Qara, with Masuna and Iafis commanding the others to follow along. We begun moving out of the village and towards the Qara Oasis, with a crowd watching us as we left. I already feel this campaign is going to be successful, just from the feeling of it… I don’t know how we’re going to win, but I have a feeling that the people of Siwa will feel extremely grateful of a unification between the two oases, and will probably start to get me better.

“Remember, minimal bloodshed. We don’t want to exterminate them. We want to teach them a lesson more or less. Only kill if they engage first.” she ordered.

Maghar was giving a blush throughout the whole time of me commanding... I don't know why he was, but he was just continuously looking at me in a way. He also seemed to be more attached than usual. I already know how he feels, and honestly, I would probably admit my love for him once this war is over. It's hard to even bottle up my feelings for someone that I had been around for a few months. Who knows, I may even accept that offer of marrying him.

[Mushroomio]

John Drier

Suez, Egypt

Rebellion

The heat of the fire hit him before the stench of coppery blood. The workers were marching up the hill, burning all in their way. The huts, though made of mud and sand, were no match for the angry mob of disgruntled servants. John looked upon the carnage, and called for his army. But Heart had not yet come back. The rebellion marched forward, at a steady pace. The ground shook with every step that they took. Who is leading this rebellion and why are they so organized?

John looked further and found his answer.

On a mound, the leader of the rebellion was shouting and barking orders at the fellow rebels.

Huti.

John turned around, and there was Heart.

“Sir, I gathered up all the men I could. We have around 200 men in total.”

“What of the women?”

“You wish for them to fight?”

“Of course. They may be physically weaker but there is strength in numbers.”

“If you say so, John.”

Heart sped away to gather up women to fight. John gathered the men that Heart brought him, and told them of their mission.

“As you already know, there is a rebellion of servants. Those ungrateful bastards are not going to come out of this alive, I swear to you. Does everyone have equipment?”

The crowd murmured.

John looked upon the crowd and saw a lot of them didn’t have armor, or even weapons. But this will have to do.

“Grab rocks, grab sticks, use your fists if you have to. But do not show them fear. If they see fear, they will strike hard and slaughter every single person here. Am I clear?”


The men let out a weak “Yes, sir.”

“I am speaking to you! Get the sand out of your ears and the dicks out of your mouths! AM I CLEAR?”

“Yes, sir.”

“AM. I. CLEAR?”

“YES. SIR!”

The men were riled up now, their arms in the air and the ones with weapons were waving them around.

“That’s more like it. Now, everyone with weapons and armor step forward.”

40 men stepped forward.

“You are my best men here, don’t forget that. You are to be on the frontlines, and you shall break their lines and rout them.” John looked towards the crowd again. “If you have armor but no weapon, raise your hand.” 35 raised hands. “People with weapons but no armor, give them to these men.”

Now there was 75 men with armor and spears in front of John. Good.

“Everyone else go into a straight line behind the initial spearhead. You are the shaft of the spear, and you will secure the area that the spearhead pierced. Now let us go! We have no time to spare!”

The men roared in agreement as they went into their formation. It was a large spear shape, and the men started to march forward down the hill.

“Charge!”

Desertian troops ran forward, spears at the ready, sandbag shields protecting them from the hail of rocks and sand that the servants threw upon them. The rocks bounced off of the shields and helmets at the front, but hit some behind the spearhead, causing minor damage to the formation as some men were knocked out, or bled profusely on the ground. Some unlucky ones were trampled to death. But they were necessary sacrifices.

Charging forward, the men finally met the rebellion. The spearhead did well in tearing the defending force in two, and routing some servants. The shaft of the spear spread out and surrounded various pockets of resistance, capturing most and killing some. After one or two hours of chasing down fleeing servants, the battle was won. Although around 20 Desertian men were killed, the servants were now back under control, even if 70 were killed. Huti was nowhere to be found, however, and so was his wife. They must have fled, cowards. Anyway, the servants were demoted to slaves, as they should’ve been from the start. All slaves were forced to work twice as hard as last time, and some were killed as examples. John saw the shortcomings of his army that day; if caught off-guard, they were weak and disorganized, and most of the people didn’t have weapons or armor. The women could also be put to work in the army, as they were capable, too. Maybe not in 1v1 combat, but human wave tactics can be effective. John got to work ordering spears and armor for all of the citizens of Desertia, and within a month he was done.

He also got to work making new weapons of concrete, mainly a sword and a shield. After many failed molds, he finally got what he desired. A curved sword, much like a scimitar, and a shield that was as big as the wielder’s torso. Yes, the shield was heavy, but it defended from pretty much anything that the tribals will throw at them. It was to be wielded by John’s personal guard, along with the sword. His army, also, required restructuring. The structure that he has right now is rudimentary at best, and has a lot of room for improvement. He thought for a while, before finding his solution.

The lowest group is the Manipulus, which held 10 men. The Manipulus was led by a Gladio. The Gladio would be commanded by a Clipeum. The Clipeum commands 5 gladii, and would in turn be commanded by an Armatus, who would be the highest ranking member of that particular division. Of course, some would outrank others. There would be different levels in each rank, for example, the lowest member, the Hastam, would have 5 ranks. A Hastam V would be only one rank below a Gladio I, and a Gladio IV would be one below a Clipeum I. A Clipeum III is one below the Armatus, whose rank is fixed.

While John was informing his men of their new ranks and whatnot, he also issued their new weapons. The Hastas all kept their spears, now each carrying 4 spears, with the spears each weighing around one or two pounds, they were not traveling light in the desert, especially with their armor. But no matter, the slaves will carry their food and water. The Gladii were issued swords, and all set to work sharpening the dull weapons. The swords were not uniform, not by any stretch of the word, as the mold had not yet been perfectly refined and was still made of sand, which allows for some room for error. The Clipea were issued shields, and the choice of swords or spears. Most chose spears, as that is what they already knew how to use, but some chose the sword. In John’s army, there were around 150 men, not including officers. 15 Manipuli, 15 Gladii, 3 Clipea, and one Armatus. Of course, the women could be incorporated, and though they didn’t end up fighting in the rebellion, they could bolster his numbers. 50 women were conscripted, bringing the number of enlisted soldiers up to 200, and more officers were recruited thusly. The population of Desertia was only around 350, so the military being this size brought problems with it. Food and water levels were always an issue, with the military requiring large portions of it. John needed to find a way to purify the salt water that was abundant in the Red Sea, made difficult due to these people’s lack of modern technology.
He heard about a technique, however, that requires two containers and a lit with a protrusion in the middle. The large container holds the salt water, and the water is brought to a slow boil. The smaller container is placed in the middle of the large container, being careful not to have the salt water go into it, and the lid is placed on top. After a while, the boiling water’s condensation will have collected in the middle container, and the water would be fresh. John did not know where he heard this technique, maybe from Before? No matter. He will try this method at once. First, he needed pottery.

The Desertian people did not know how to make pottery, though, and John was also as knowledgeable to pottery as he was to astrophysics. So again, he turned to Egypt. He was to embark on a journey to Egypt to learn the secret of pottery, so that his empire shall last for 1000 years.



A year has passed since the slave rebellion, and John still remembers it as if it happened yesterday. The violence. The death. The bloodshed. But it was all worth it in the end. The slaves were now working twice as hard as they were before, pumping out materials like there was no tomorrow. The miner slaves were digging near the copper deposit that was found so long ago, and digging up copper each day with their new concrete shovels and picks. At this rate, maybe John could finally upgrade his army’s weapons and armor.

The concrete that they were using was much too heavy, and the Clipea were unhappy with the shields, some even passing out from exhaustion during training. John’s solution was to put small wheels on the shields, which worked for a while, but did require an amount of maintenance. The swords were heavy and unwieldy, but they were powerful. The amount of force that they have behind every swing was enough to behead any foe, as shown by captured tribal prisoner’s executions.

Desertia, on the other hand, was growing large. The borders of it spread from the Great Salt Basin, to the location of modern day Adabiya, to Agrod, and even further east, beyond where the Canal would be. John thought it strange that he saw no such canal, and no towns either. Wasn’t Suez a bustling port city? No matter. The past is in the past.

John had heard of the material, bronze, in the past, from Before. But he did not know exactly how to make it. Tin and copper, yes, but what proportions? How hot? None of this, he knew, and he did not even think that tin was even possible to get with his technology.

His pottery training had gone well in Egypt, even though he was a bit at odds with his instructor. John created a small pot to desalinate the water, and it worked wonderfully. The salt was separated, too, and could be sold or used to preserve meat. Now, all is needed is to create this on a large, grand scale, and Desertia would be a literal oasis in the hellishly hot wastes of Sinai.

[UniversalCommons]

Year 10 Month 11

A Year of Death.

There had been many funerals in Oak both for Warriors and Scribes. They could not make the full sacrifice of animals or they would starve. Pottery in the shape of cattle, sheep, dogs, and horses had been substituted for physical animals. Copper and axes from the fallen Kurgan were often added to the graves. Victor Spear and Penelope had to ban the practice of people going to their deaths with their relatives, instead making complex dolls of wool straw and leather to replace them. Too many people were dying as it was.

There were pyres for the dead who had died from the pigeon disease. The bodies were cremated and buried deep in the ground. Wailing and funerals were common in Oak. Many people filled the temples making prayers for their relatives to Sabazius and the Great Goddess.

There was not enough food. They had to innovate. The temples called grasshoppers, beetles, grubs, and snails mana from the gods to be boiled and eaten. People would gather greens from the forests, dandelions and wild mustard, tubers, berries, mushrooms, and plants. Not everyone knew the proper foods to gather. A few people died from eating the wrong kind of mushroom or were sickened by poisonous berries. The scribes had to make a closer study of what was safe to eat in the woods as well as get a better grasp of poisons and dangerous plants.

They hunters hunted in the forests often catching smaller animals like squirrels and rabbits in addition to quail, red deer, wild pigs, and other animals. Some of the hunters went after larger more dangerous creatures, bear and a few aurochs with the help of the war hounds. They had to drive away some of the wanderers in the forests from the Tribal Alliance who had fled settlements which had been burned and raided by the Kurgan.

More people from the Tribal Alliance came to the area seeking both safety and food. They had made two large encampments. Some of the ships would take the men out to small islands in the Aegean to forage for food, or insist that they fish, hunt, or work in agriculture. It was wretched for these people. A dozen had starved to death because of the lack of food. There was not enough to go around. Also Cucuteni tribesmen had started to trickle into Nestos League. The smaller groups were ignored mostly. They were self sufficient and peaceful. However, larger groups were turned away and told me to move back into tribal alliance lands or move on.

It was worse for many in the Tribal Alliance, Staro Zagora was very slow to recover. The towns of Nesebar and Burgas had been destroyed in the Tribal Alliance. Many people starved. The Nestos League warriors had to prevent a flood of refuges coming from the Tribal Alliance lands. They would spend part of their time hunting and farming in the Tribal Alliance, working with refugees, and part of their time gathering together warriors and training them. Half of the surviving warriors from the Nestos League were still in Tribal Alliance lands. The town of Sofia had insisted that it was now part of the Nestos League, not the Tribal Alliance. Hisarya had asked about the Nestos League as well.

Oleg had forced the Wolf Tribe to relinquish Shuman to the Horse Tribe which had been captured during the war from the Tribal Alliance. He announced that members of the Nestos League could trade at Shuman. Oleg had married Igor's daughter tying him to the nobility in Varna. There were rumors that Oleg was recruiting warriors, priests, and farmers from Troy and the Aegean.

They took sheep, cattle, and horses from the defeated Kurgan. Some of the Kurgan's horses had been bred as meat animals. There were some slaves in the Kurgan camps who were willing to help Oak as well as some women who had been forced to marry Kurgan warriors. These people showed the scribes and hunters from Oak which greens the Kurgan gathered from the woods as well as which seeds like amaranth which they used to make soup. They adopted some of the practices of making cheese and yogurt to help preserve milk from cattle. The people of the Nestos League even started drinking goat milk and making sheep cheese. During the cold times, the meat horses were able to forage for food, breaking the ice for water and even foraging in the snow.

They sought more food from the rivers and sea. They began to eat kelp, eels, and crabs. They tried out new types of fish. Some of the fishermen began making better fishing poles with finer twine and bronze hooks.

The gardens and groves of the temple also kept many people alive. They planted additional gardens. More people were spending time gathering food. Also more food was being pickled, dried, and salted because people feared starvation during the cold season.

Traders were sent out with copper, brass, wine, pottery, spices, salt, perfume, wood, and other goods to get additional food from the Aegean, Varna, and Troy. More horses were brought back for their meat as well as sheep, seeds, grain, and other food from Varna. The Anatolian farmers had heard of the battle and they demanded high prices for grain. Also, the islanders on the Aegean had gotten a taste for the strong wine from Oak and Abdera and wanted it for food.

People lost weight, but they did not starve. The granaries emptied.

On the river Dniester

Cenric, Basaba, and Sitalkes stopped at a large settlement along the river. It was the biggest settlement he had ever seen. There were more houses than he could count from where he was at the edge of the water. A double wall surrounded the settlement. The houses had huge red swirls painted on them. It was not much different than the other settlements in its layout.

However, there was a small group of hunters who had traveled and were trading up the river. A few even told tales of visiting a place called Varna. Another described going to a strange trading post on one of the rivers where they could trade for bronze hammers and tools. Their leader had rallied the Cucuteni convincing them that they could defeat the horsemen. They had made stacks of bows and copper headed arrows as well as large two handed rock hammers and spears. There were a dozen men with bronze hammers. Basaba drew the hammers because the Cucuteni refused to trade for them. They called themselves, the "hammer men" who would defeat the horsemen. They also had made simple hide armor, helmets of bone and hide, and simple shields. They had seen the guards at the Varna trading post with shields and armor.

Because the Cucuteni had given hope to some of the fishermen following Sitalkes, some of the fishermen decided to stay and help the hammer men.

Cenric and Sitalkes traded for supplies, offering salt for oats, wheat, and vegetables. They left within a few hours.

Basaba, Cenric, Sitalkes and their men wanted to be away from there as quickly as they could.

They left the river after a few more days of traveling. They had to pass overland to get to the next river. Basaba and Sitalkes loaded up the pack goats, oxen, and an ox drawn wagon so they could get moving.

At Ur

The expedition met up with a local merchant who led them to a house where they could rest and eat.

[Civilization OP]

Ur

It was beautiful to see - through the blue and wavy haze of the evening sun, from miles away, upon the crest of a rolling sand dune, the proud father fell onto his knees. He, and all his clan, had traveled the desert for weeks on end; they had suffered the ever beating and fiery heat of the sun, they had lived off of no more than what they might carry upon their own backs, they had been stalked by all manner of predator and scavenger along their journey, they had went days without food and only a swallow of fresh water, and they had only just narrowed by the harassment of those savage nomads who called the desert home - at the price of a daughter. The salty sea had been growing since the time of his clan's forefathers, stealing away field after field each passing year, until finally it had come to encompass even his own home. The land that they left had turned to a salty and barren desert, gone were the green pastures that his forefathers had lived in.

Taking what few belongings that they still possessed, he and his clan had made the harrowing journey west and south - to find find the land between two rivers. A place of bounty, black soil, and cities that soured to the sky and spread passed the horizon. They were but one clan among hundreds, fleeing from the east. All sought the fabled land of wealth, but not all would make the journey. Some would be claimed by the desert - their legacy lost to the shifting sands. Others, would be cursed by serpents and plague, scattered by the malign and uncaring whims of nature. Others still would discover the evils of man, as southern nomads made profit upon their helplessness - taking and seizing what ever they desired from the already broken and wretched.

But they, they had made it! Loving tears rolled down the father's face as he laughed mournfully at the sight of the wondrous city that lay just upon the horizon. The stories were true! It was the biggest dwelling of man he had ever seen; surrounded by divine gardens that hugged along the river. At his sides, his brother and sisters, wives and children, all to fell to their knees and wept at the site of mighty Ur. Next to their mind, to the salvation which the sight of the city promised, they held dear the memory of those kin whom they had lost along the way. So many, they could not live to weep with them now...

They had made it; and if they had made it, so too might the other thousands of kindred and hopeful spirits who had benn forced to flee their salty land - seeking food and work in the land between two rivers.

[Civilization OP]

Tureii, Southern Frontier of the Imperium

A month ago, they'd not a word for fealty. She bristled in pain as her finger was pricked by the jagged ends of the red rock. She'd hastily dropped the sliver of iron back into her basket, sucking the blood from her finger. As she pulled her finger from out her mouth, she gawked at how wrinkled and worn her hand's had become. Black earth and red iron had caked themselves into a fine layer of dust over dry cracked hands. She'd turned her gaze toward her right, to see if the other girls too had hands so disheveled as hers.

They were packed together under a roof of moss covered logs, which proved completely inept in stopping the leaks and drips left over from the morning rain. Each girl had, in front of her, their own basket of crushed earth and rock - through which they sought and picked out the red slivers of iron hidden within. The rocks would be deposited into a huge pile off to the side of the oning they sat under, while the iron ore would be placed in a smaller pile of red just behind them. Waiting just outside were dozens more baskets of black rock and earth, piled high one over another. They would need to sort through ever single one before they would be allowed to return to their homes. This was their daily labor, and had been every day for the last forty days. Each girl's hands were either just as, or cut even worse than her own. They'd been at their labors so long now, that they no longer minded the pain which came with their task. Better to suffer in silence, than to be kept from home.

Tureii's misery had been mere contempt a short while ago. Hiezer, second eldest of their beloved late chief, had taken for himself the mantle of chiefhood, after returning from a hunting trip with his brother ( and former chief ) were in he was, apparently, mauled by a boar's tusk. There was very little doubt as to what really happened on that trip, but without proof Hiezer could not be made to answer for his fratricide. Even still, though the Tureii could not slit his throat, they did not offer him their respect either. His commands were often, and by the more prominent and brave of the community, blatantly ignored by his kin. His authority was based upon a lie, and the people treated his position as no more than an error of technicality - a joke. Everyone knew it, even Hiezer, which was perhaps the reason that drove him to slaughter his nephew after being insulted publicly by him. Unlike Him, his nephew had been quite popular among the Tureii - and very quickly, the joke of a chief realized that he'd be soon deposed by his own people - if he didn't act quickly.

When he and a group of friends had packed themselves into a boat and sailed their way up river, the Tureii had rejoiced at the at their hated chief fleeing away. When he had returned only a few weeks later, though, and upon a larger boat carrying a whole retinue of foreigners with him - the Tureii were both shocked and appalled. They'd had contact with the Imperium before, through explorers and the occasional trading ship; but as men with steel swords and helmets walked off the boat, Hiezer swaggering in their midst, an air of defiant pride about him, they'd realized that something terrible had happened.

So it had been, Hiezer, chief of the Tureii, had sworn the oaths before the Hegemon in Mara. Offering his fealty, in exchange for protection. In the forty days which followed his return home, his kin would learn exactly what fealty would entail. The men would be uprooted from their farms, and sent into the foothills to dig out the red iron by what instrument they had on hand ( often, quite literally, using their hands ). The women would be forced to lay upon themselves the full burden of maintaining the fields - while simultaneously carrying out every other menial task of iron extraction now forced upon the Tureii. Their's was not a meager operation, for Hiezer intended to fully earn the support of his allies up river. His kin were forced, at sword point, to work from dusk till down, not going home or being given food till their tasks were complete: their hands bloody, their feet aching, and their mind's weary. The proud defiance which they had shown their reviled chief only a few weeks ago dissolved, after he'd slaughtered his six most open and audacious critics.

The imperial warriors were a completely alien site - their language a kind of wet and guttural sound - their steel armor and weapons being unmatched to their own copper implements. Ornery youths who had attempted to show bravado before the foreigners were sent howling with cuts and bruises. Even still, more subtle methods of defiance were undertaken by the her kin: rocks were thrown by assailants who would quickly vanish among the crowd, portions of the iron haul would be mysteriously lost before being shipped up river, articles of cloths and memorabilia would be stolen from the foreigners while their back's were turned. Despite their petty acts, Tureii was being strangled by Hiezer's pride - strengthened by his overlords in the north.

A month ago, the Tureii had not had a word for fealty - but they'd found it's equivalent: slavery.

[Joohan]

The whims of savage rulers

10 years and 7 months after arrival...

Camped outside the town of Heims

---

I felt cautiously optimistic as I looked over the scrolls laid out before me, beautiful Andonian words hyphenated next to Arabic numerals highlighted and displayed my years of work and struggle! The red script contrasted marvelously against the yellow paper, reflecting the rays of sunlight that shot through my tent's open door way. We had been fighting against Weylin and his supporters for two weeks by that point - dozens had been killed on either side, but we were winning decisively. As I ran my sites down a series of accounts I had taken, I had mused that I had become more of a scribe than a commander during the course of this campaign. I had allowed my lieutenants relatively free reign over their platoons - only giving general objectives, locations, and times to report at. New developments would be reported back to me, where I camped among Haston's forces in the countryside surrounding Heims, either upon preordained times or during emergencies as the commander saw fit; as had been the case during the ambush against 2nd platoon at the start of the campaign.

The ambush that had taken 2nd platoon by surprise had been a disheartening blow for myself and the rest of the Army, so early on. Nine men had died, including their lieutenant - his sword stolen from off his body, and still yet to be recovered. Of those six who had survived the ordeal, only three were still fit enough to continue fighting, being assigned to the other platoons - the injured resting and healing here at camp. There had been a silver lining though, I thought as a particular grouping of accounts had caught my eye. Weylin's own losses had been staggering, losing some twenty seven of his own men - three killed for every soldier fallen. Among his warriors who had not managed to flee the battle, we had captured and interrogated them.

Interrogated was, perhaps, too sophisticated a word for what had truly been preformed. I ensured that what had been done was purely for pragmatic reasons, and did not ever veer into the realm of pure maliciousness. From these prisoners, we had deduced a wealth of information about Weylin forces:

At the start of the campaign, it was confirmed that Weylin commanded a little over seventy warriors - but certainly no more than eighty. That they had been converting iron tools over into weapons was also confirmed when Scythe blades and hammer heads were found on dead warriors. The engagement between Weylin and the 2nd platoon had, also, been a complete accident. He had given the order to abandon his camp shortly after having heard of our arrival. His plan had been to sneak behind our forces and to attack Haston's camp from the rear - a movement which 2nd platoon had gotten in the way of. Being repulsed back by our counter attack ( headed by the exceptionally brave chargers ), Weylin and his men would find themselves trapped: to the North, their old camp had been exposed, and was constantly being watched by Haston's scouts; to the West and south, the Army was constantly patrolling, and fully alert of their presence; the East might have promised hope for escape, but for the marshlands that stood in their wake, and the weary tribes that lay just beyond who would not take well to an intrusion by Danarran warriors. Weylin was trapped in his small patch of forest - surrounded by enemy and nature alike. I had ordered my platoons to methodically push their patrols ever eastward, hunting down and slaughtering what ever war bands happened across their path. In those pitched woods, during those very close and personal battles, as spears crossed and axes clanged, as warriors howled and soldiers sang bird songs, I felt the most pride. My soldiers met success after success - their discipline, their conditioning, their resilience, all a validation of my eight years of work!

I had recorded it all, here, in these scrolls. Every possible note of interest I could take to further improve my Army, I had written down: Injury locations, weapon faults, tactical failures, tactical successes, environmental hazards, logistical issues, movements analysis, kill ratio's, ground covered, daytime activity v nighttime activity, leadership reports, camouflage effectiveness, After Action reports, interrogation sessions, etc. Every single movement which we had made since we'd arrived in the Westerlands, I had written down for further analysis. This was every bit a war as it was an experiment for me. I was only just shy of thirty years old - and I fully anticipated future battles to come. I and, and my subordinates, would have a wealth of experience and records to draw upon in preparation for such inevitable conflicts. As for Weylin though, as the days drew on, as the bodies of his supporters continued to piled up, and he was rooted out of more and more of his hiding spots, and as his back drew closer to the proverbial wall - I felt sure in knowing that this war was very nearly over.

" Commander, "

I lifted my head up from the scrolls to see one of my chargers standing in the door frame, his stance at attention. The chargers, in the place of being put on patrol, were kept back in Haston's camp, to act as a swift counter attacking force when ever they were needed. I nodded toward him,

" A messenger has arrived. "

" Show him in. " He nodded, and stopped back, allowing the presumed messenger duck his way into my tent. I met his nervous look with a pleasant smile, satisfied in knowing that he no doubt was bringing to me my semi-daily exchange with Haston. The new patriarch had been kept at a hectic schedule throughout the campaign - moving between this camp, the front lines, and back at Heims. We kept in contact through our exchange, my aide Kenoir writing on his behalf. I beckoned the messenger over with a wave.

" I hope you were not molested by any soldier's on your way 'ere. " I said, offering up my warmest inflections in the Danarran dialect. He seemed confused for a moment before speaking.

" Uh... not at all, sir. " Upon hearing him speak, I knew immediately, that something was wrong. He had responded, not in the Danarran dialect, by in Ablanese. I couldn't help but show the surprise on my face, something which he in turn mimicked. I hadn't brought this man with me - I had no idea who he was! The only other literate Ablan here, in the Westerlands, who could possibly be sending messages was Kenoir, and he would have sent an Danarran messenger! I looked down at the yellow scroll rolled up in his left hand. The only other literate people, in the entire world, are in either Stranix or Israel, I thought to myself. That such a journey at all had been made, through a warzone no less, mean't that something bad had happened.

The distressed Ablan messenger handed me the scroll as I beckoned, and simply stood in silence as I read over it's contents. Within the first few lines, I had managed to determine not only that the message had come from Stranix - but was even able to determine the particular author. One of the more, truly, literate men I had taught, he was the farmer whom I had tasked with rearing horses. It appeared that he had been conscripted, due to ability to read and write, in order to pen this particular message. It was short, poorly written, and as for content - absolutely devastating.

Comandr Issac,

You tak Ablan clan man with no permisin, n you Rmy. Danran clan man brother fit is not thret to Ablan clan. You tak wat not yours, and you spil Ablan clan blod beyond you powr. You can stay in wst land, fit Danran clan brother man, but no Ablan clan man wil fit. Send Ablan clan man hom now.

Ordr of Chef Tumor'eh.

It was four sentences long, it looked to be written by a child, and it demanded, essentially, my defeat. I had no doubts about the real head behind this order, the kniving brother of Chief Tumor'eh: Numail. He and I had fought against one another for years - he seeking to contain my ambitions and claim my successes as his own, and I doing my best to step around him. He had been the one to end supply of bronze to Israel years ago, forcing me to seek out iron as a replacement material. More recently, he had attempted to wrest from me control and leadership of the Army - a plot I had always managed to foil, while my presence could be felt at the council. It appears though, that as the Ablan's sons are off on campaign, and stories of ambush and death reach the ears of their kin, Numail has finally managed to, once again, manipulate his brother to act against me.

Ablan was the single largest clan which made up my Army - sending them home would cut my forces in half, ending any chance of a quick victory against Weylin... and Numail knew it. He wanted me to lose, wanted me to embarrass myself, allowing him to wrest control of the Army from me and bestowing it to his lackeys. And, at least according to his letter, he had the chief's backing to do so.

I sat in silence as a stared down toward the damning letter - the confidence I felt earlier now building up into a ball of uncertainty and fear I felt in the pit of my stomach.

" Boy, " I said, still looking down toward the scroll.

" I would certainly hope tha' ya came with some kind of guard - considering the dangerous land ya've walked yourself into. Before I send you back on your way to Stranix with my reply, can I rest assured that my message will reach the chief safely? " I looked up toward the messenger, my face revealing nothing.

He seemed to fiddle with the shirt as his side, seemingly embarrassed by the question. " I uh... I am afraid not, sir. I was assured that, as our own soldiers had made the journey safely, so too might I. Forgive me, as I had not thought about traveling alone."

He lowered his head in apology. I offered up a tsk as I slowly stood up from the carpet that I sat on. " Aye, you've nothing to apologize for. But, we've need to take precautions in such dangerous lands. " I placed a firm hand upon his shoulder, and handed him a rolled up scroll.

" I've already prepared my reply. Now then, " I began leading him out of my tent, into the warm afternoon air. The charger who stood guard at the side of my tent looked forward, impassively.

" Wait over by the water troughs, and I'll send over some of my own soldiers to lead ya back home. It will only be a moment. " With smile on my part, and a gentle pat on the back, I let the messenger go, watching as he marched his way off to the water troughs near the edge of the camp. Slowly, without ever breaking sight of the messenger, I walked over to my guard. " See that...he's a spy. "

The charger cast a sideways glance at me, his face awash in silent surprise. " It's very subtle, but I noticed it. He tries to talk like us, but his accent crept through... where did you say you saw him coming from? "

I kept my stoic gaze facing towards the messenger, his frame growing smaller and smaller as he walked away. The guard, taking my note, also dawned his own expressionless mask. " I had seen approaching from the East, coming from the road to Stranix. "

I cast a cynical sidelong glance towards him, " Without a guard, marching through a warzone? "

It had finally dawned him, the stupidity of his own actions - taking this clearly suspicious man into their camp, ushering him in to meet the commander no less?! How could he have been so foolish? Of course though, I was lying.

" I told him that you would act as his guard back to Stranix, and to wait for you near the water troughs... take him into the forest, and kill him. Do it away from the other men. No telling if there are other spies amongst us. " Slowly, the charger nodded. Totting his spear upon his shoulder, began to walk off in the direction of the doomed messenger.

To hell with Numail, and to hell with the order. When I came back to Stranix, victorious and with triumphant Army marching in toe - i'd be untouchable.

God I was sick of it! The scheming, the cow towing, the road blocks put in my way, the savage instincts held by those chiefs and patriarchs over me! I was sick of it all! I was their commander, their spear, the destroyer of their enemies - I was the one who brought them into the iron age, who gave them enough food to rest for a day once in their lives - I gave them letters and numbers, so that that they could learn beyond word of mouth! What did I get in return, how did they respond to my gifts? Indignity, pride, jealousy, and willful ignorance. The same attitude that got the Obuer to barter their lives away, was the same attitude that now forced Weylin into an ever smaller patch of woods. Never mind all the good that I had brought these wretched despots - they were locked in their primeval way of thinking. They were stuck in the cave, smashing rocks together and fearing fire. What good was giving these people all those gifts, if their leaders were intent upon killing themselves with it? These people had virtue within them - I'd seen it, and I still see it. It was being smothered though, clouded and clotted by man's innate savage nature - and it infuriated me.

As I saw my soldier, swagger off in the direction of that poor messenger, I saw an image of the future to come. I was done serving the whims of savage rulers - I was going to civilize these people, and usher in a golden age of virtue, security, morality, and prosperity. I would rewrite mankind's legacy into a tale of perpetual glory and honor throughout all eras - across all civilizations!

And I was going to exterminate any savage that got in my way.

[G-Tech Corporation]

Mara Council Chamber, The Imperium of Man
June 27th

A curious offer. One unexpected to many, though not, perhaps, myself. I had had an inkling that that might be the wish of these foreign folk, to prove their provenance, as soon as the man of Roskilde mentioned the offense he took at my adjudging of their polity. It was an offer to be measured, one that I could not comment on for myself alone. Indeed, as soon as the outlander finished speaking, Gaodon's care-worn face turned to me with a brow furrowed in thought.

"It could be a trap. It probably is a trap. Lure in one of the city fathers, so kind and diplomatic, then use him as leverage for goods or trade concessions."

Heads bobbed around the table. I rested my chin on one of my hands, content to wait as the other men discussed their thoughts, and fears. The man from the north might read some of what was said from their expressions, if he had the skill, but that was no concern of mine for now.

"This Rojangas does raise a good point though", said Rorik, grumbling into his beard, "what profit do we have in not giving him these small assurances? The mouths of the Elbe are far afield, and the Roskilde-men farther still. It will be many lives of our sons ere those who are judged by the Father come near unto their lands, and my heart is not one given to thoughts of war. Let us swear this peace, and have done with it."

Some spoke for this point of view, which struck me as fair, if vacillating. I waited a minute and some for the others to air their thoughts, then intoned once my contemplations were completed.

"We may swear such oaths, aye. But even as there is not profit in not swearing them, what is gained from their giving? Men of good character may trade in the ports of our kindred without any such accord, and be untroubled so long as they comport themselves in a fair manner. I would not give my word to any agreement with a people unknown, nor risk the lives of those of my troth and faith in ascertaining the benevolence of that people."

The discussion faltered at my words, men nodding in agreement. It was the soft power of respect that I commanded upon the Council, both as the head of the sitting, and in my personal relationship with the many clan-fathers. And, in truth, few men felt strongly about this matter, and thus it was delegated to my judgement as High Arbiter and commanders of the guards. Anon I turned back towards the waiting Raginaharjas and addressed him once more in his tongue.

"Your offer is a fair one, and I would that there were those of my kindred who felt it a prudent use of their time - but none will accompany you, upon this day, I am afraid. Our lives are not so long, for all the blessings we have been given, that I would compel any man to entrust his wellbeing to the good keeping of your folk, even though your aspect in your person I adjudge fair and laudable - it may not be so that all of your people are of like mien, and the virtue of the lives of my kindred I place above the knowledge of far Roskilde."

"As for affixing words of peace and prosperity to paper, this too I cannot in good conscience give. The years are long, and the future known only to our Father. Perhaps in time, with the turning of the seasons and the riding of the sun, those who speak to me and mine will give, as such things become known, good report of the conduct of Roskilde and her sister-cities, her people and your governance. Then maybe we shall have an accord of wisdom, as such things are reckoned. But, knowing little as I do, I cannot bind myself to what you ask, nor my kindred, lest you have come in our midst even after the fashion of the Gibeonites and in the spirit of the deceiver, well concealed. I say this not as insult to your person, nor your people, but merely in an abundance of good caution - to say only what can be held to without turning aside, and to speak oaths only what which may be fulfilled in utter surety."

It was not what I had wished to say, upon hearing of an emissary from the far north. But my heart misgave me, and there was simply too much that was not known of the far distances of the Danemark. Evil men had before sought to extract oaths and bind themselves to the Imperium in some manner or another, seeking after personal power or to preserve their iniquities against proper cleansing righteousness under the veil of burdensome promise. It would not happen again, if I could guard against such perversion of the bonds of honor.

[Nuxipal]

Javin Torrez
Six Months Since Arrival
Patna, Ganges River Basin

The following day, Javin and the warriors of Patna, plus a few dozen allied warriors who were in town, began drilling. Javin taught them about fighting as a unit, as one group instead of a mass of individuals. Getting new shields for the warriors was difficult, but not impossible. Wooden shields coated by hammered copper made for effective shields and they already were effective fighters with spears and clubs. However, they needed discipline. From dawn until dusk, Javin worked to get these warriors to work together as a unit. By the second week they seemed to have the basic ideas down and they began their march. It wouldn't take too long to get to where they were wanting to go. Bihta was nearly 25 Kilometers away, they could cover this distance in a couple days if they moved quickly. They however, only moved eight kilometers a day, looking to arrive the early morning of their fourth day of travel. This gave Javin time to continue drilling them and for them to forage for food and for the scouts, which ran ahead, to get an idea what was happening in and around Bihta.

The forces consisted of nearly 120 men from Patna, 20 of which were sponsored solely by Dathika, the speaker of the Patnan assembly. Additionally, another one hundred had arrived from allied villages and towns along their route by the time they made camp a kilometer away from Bihta. They were close enough that they could spring to action if they needed to defend it, but not directly in the town. They drilled the following morning before moving into the town itself. By this point, Javin had come up with a basic formation for the army to work in. The more disciplined Patnans would form a shield-wall core of nearly 70 strong. An additional 50 Patnans would be skirmishing ahead of the main force while the allied forces would join the skirmishers and fight on the flanks of the shield wall. He hoped that the Arrahi would be far off and not prepared for them, however things could not have been any different.

A young man, wearing ceremonial headgear to mark him out as the town's chieftain approached Javin and Dathika. The young chief looked over Javin briefly, "I heard there was a pale figure with the warriors from Patna, I did not expect him to be in charge of them. Dathika soured at this remark, and stated, "Javin is our field general for this expedition. I am the Speaker of the Assembly, the lawgiving body of Patna. What is it you wish to speak of Chief Aditya."

Aditya shrugged off the merchant's claims to power. Voting and groups of men deciding what is best for everyone wasn't a tradition anywhere, and it only just began in Patna itself. Instead, leading an army is what gave power and he saw Javin as the one with the power here, "Javin was it, strange name for a strange man. I must urge you to have your men move on by tomorrow morning. I do not have the resources to help feed your men for too long. We are running short of food with the Arrahi coming around and taking what they wish from our people in the name of their 'Great Chief'."

Javin nodded, "I understand. Have your people fish the rivers for extra food for now. We plan on moving across the river at the next dawn. I wanted my men to have time to rest before fording the river."

Nodding in agreement, "That is good, just do not linger. Once you cross, the Arrahi will be upon you soon. They came last with nearly three hundred warriors."

At this moment a runner came to Javin, he was a Patnan scout dispatched to watch the river. "Javin, the Arrahi are moving. We spotted them only an hour or so ago heading for the river ford. The other scouts are shadowing them as they move north."

Nodding, Javin calls out for his captains to round up the men. "There will unfortunately not be time to rest. Chief Aditya, if you have warriors: now is the time for them to join the fight. We will try to hit them as they are crossing the river to cut down on their numerical advantage."

Battle of Sone Ford

It took another hour to assemble and then fast march out of the town heading north west towards the Sone River and the widest ford in the area. In an hour and a half they made sight of the river and sure enough, the Arrahi forces were partially across the river. Perhaps a dozen men on the east side while the rest were transiting or waiting to start the crossing. The water was waist high at the middle portion here, which made for difficulty in fighting. Not rushing towards the river just yet, Javin organized his men. Skirmishers ahead while the Shield Warriors and the allies readied behind them.

They marched forward, in what could only be their best behavior. The allied skirmishers rushed ahead, but those who were on the flanks had been watching the Patnans and were attempting to emulate their discipline to the best of their abilities. The skirmishing began and the first Arrahi on the east banks were slain to the main as arrows and javelins fell among them. A captain near Javin came with the latest of the reports regarding the Arrahi strength.

"Five hundred. There isn't that many here, maybe four of that at most. Another hundred are missing." Javin looked up and down the river. "Keep me a reserve of fifty or so warriors, our skirmishers would be best. Keep them out of melee and let them know that they will be forming a reserve, a group of warriors who will charge in at my command to finish the enemy. I plan on them facing those other one hundred should they appear during the fighting. Aside from that, we have our plan. Let us execute it."

In total, the Allied towns and villages fielded two hundred and fifty warriors. Their opposition was nearly four hundred at this location and those four hundred were strung out crossing the river. Javin shouted to his warriors to reorganize as he instructed. The shield wall moved forward and prepared themselves as the allied skirmishers dropped arrows and javelins on the enemy as they crossed the river. The ford was becoming a kill zone, but still many of the Arrahi warriors reached the east bank and immediately charged forward. Unfortunately the discipline of the allied warriors was not up to snuff and before the shield wall's effectiveness could be tested these allies broke formation and charged forward creating a chaotic melee in front of the Patnan line, which held surprisingly steady, aside from a few of the younger men rushing to ensure they gained some ounce of glory here.

The Allied warriors seemed to be doing well enough until more and more Arrahi made landfall on the eastern bank. The allied skirmishers were not as effective when half were engaged in hand to hand fighting. Javin yelled out orders for his allies to reform behind his shield wall. Reluctantly, many allied troops withdrew. They had lost half of their numbers, but the Patnans were fresh even after all this time. "Alright, men of Patna. Advance. Step. Step. Step." They stepped as they were drilled to do so. Shields locked together, spears outwards, clubs ready to be used should they lose their spear. Javin advanced with them, though in the third and last rank so he could keep a lookout for the other one hundred, and as they moved he saw them. Grabbing one of the messengers that were advancing with him he sent one final message before he plunged into the fight himself.

Dathika was with the Skirmishers resting as a reserve. The messenger arrived notifying him of the reinforcements coming along the eastern bank of the river and how they needed to operate to intercept them. Dathika saw this as his chance for glory. He organized the skirmishers, most of which were just good hunters back in Patna, to move and attack the approaching warriors who were coming up from the south. Their clash was brief and bloody, but Dathika survived it and the Arrahi warriors repelled heading back across the river leaving behind a dozen or so dead.

Back in the center of the fighting the Patnan shieldwall encountered the Arrahi warriors for the first time. Fighting was tough the warriors giving ground much easier than anything and taking few actual casualties. Frustrated, Javin grabbed a fallen spear from a dead warrior and threw it over his men at the Arrahi warriors impaling one in the chest. The third line began doing this as they went, even throwing their own spear. Soon the Arrahi warriors were scrambling backwards and the front line finally made purchase and the impact was immediate. Those nearest the water turned back first seeing what was happening to their friends and comrades. The fighting died down not more than half an hour later as skirmishers chased the Arrahi off of the field.

"Prepare to make camp on the far side of the river. We cannot give them time to regroup. Men of Patna, allies of Patna, advance across the Sone."

Within two hours the two hundred or so remaining men arrived on the far side and set up camp in sight of the river. They were a couple of days of marching from Arrah now and their warriors had been defeated and scattered. The allied warriors had all witnessed the effectiveness of the Patnan warriors and many asked how it was done. Others preferred their current method of battle, showing off scars where they had been hit by clubs or spears and survived.

As camp is set one of the captains returns after he and the others prepared the casualty report. "We have confirmation on forty-three losses from our own and allied forces, six of ours are dead or missing. The bodies from the Arrahi are another story, there are one hundred and thirty on the shore and we are unsure how many fell while in the water. Forward scouts report that the Arrahi forces are scattered and we can't get an accurate count. There seems to be at least four groups of them, only two have headed back towards Arrah itself, the others are heading north west and the other south along the river. Those were the hundred or so that we saw before, they are still on the east bank and don't seem to be crossing soon, we only managed to kill seven of them before they gave up the fight and left."

Continued discussions regarding wounded enemies and allies came up thin. The only captured men were from Arrah itself and neither of significance. They both agree that their war chief did not fall in the fighting and was likely leading one of the groups back to regroup at Arrah. Javin took his captains and allied war chiefs to a council to discuss the next plan.

"I propose we advance on Arrah as intended and defeat them there. If we do this we can put an end to the threats and ambitions of its leadership for the foreseeable future." There were murmurs regarding this while others simply wished to go home to which Javin replied, "If you feel you have completed what you set out to do, I am not forcing you to stay here. Patna will be told of which allies remain to assist and which return home after a single, temporary victory. We know their forces are divided, the two heading away from Arrah are likely the allies of Arrah and will need their own convincing to not continue their objectives here."

After a few hours of debate following dusk, two villages worth of warriors, perhaps thirty in total, were to leave the following day. The remaining force rested for the night knowing they would begin their advance towards Arrah the following day.

[Plzen]

Mara Council Hall,
8th year, 3rd Summer Monday,
Raginaharjas Kunjamundusson af Roskilde.

It was a well-explained refusal, I gathered, but the Imperium's response was a refusal just the same and I lacked the means to convince them. Viktor's responses may be nothing but excuses or they may be genuine concerns, but I lacked the knowledge of the Imperium and the men who led it necessary to distinguish one from the other.

"I am disappointed," I slowly responded, "to hear that the Imperium has no interest in what we offer. Although it is the perspective of the Stórþing that an exchange of guarantees would be the soundest possible basis for our prosperous future relationship, we have little choice but to accept if the Imperium does not agree."

Well, that was it, was it not? Come right down to it, the Imperium was a fair distance from Norðurland. The offer extended today was, according to Clara, merely to be the beginning, a framework to be built on. I did not bring counteroffers or concessions in the event the Imperium responded poorly to my initial offer, for no reasonable counteroffer or concession could exist.

Nonetheless, it felt just wrong to leave it there. So, I continued.

"However, I remain hopeful. I am no longer as young nor as sedentary as I once was, yet in all my travels I have not seen an alliance as sophisticated as the Imperium except perhaps in my own homeland. As any northern man who have taken to the seas knows, the wealth of nations lie in its neighbours, and perhaps one day, the Imperium will come to see this also."

I gave my scribe a passing glance, and she nodded back at me, subtly indicating both her approval of my conduct, and the comprehensiveness of her minutes. The Stórþing will no doubt want to have a look at the latter upon my return, if only for Roskilde's opponents in the council chamber to pick apart my words.

"That concludes my business here," I finally finished, "I have no more items I wish to append to your no doubt full agenda. If you have nothing you wish to discuss with me further, I believe it best for us to conclude our meeting here. Even though we failed to obtain the agreement we desired, it was nonetheless a pleasure."

[Nuxipal]

Javin Torrez
6 Months, 2 Weeks since Arrival
Outskirts of Arrah, Ganges River Basin

A dozen Kilometers west of the Sone river, the town of Arrah rivaled that of Patna to the east. Most of its warriors have returned home, and their allies still scattered back to their own towns. The warriors of Arrah were arrayed before those of Patna, shouts and jeers crossed the wide expanse between the two war parties. On one had, the warriors of Arrah had tasted defeat and now defended their home with what pride remained. The other, the Patnan warriors and their remaining allies. Fortune had favored them thus far, with fewer casualties and thus more glory falling upon them, they felt that they could win a decisive victory under the leadership of their warchief Javin.

For his own part, Javin had shown he was capable of leading the warriors of Patna, while giving enough to the City's Speaker Dathika. Dathika had also gained popularity during the fighting and, while he wasn't as prestigious as Javin in this conflict, he was indeed considered to be a venerable warrior and sound leader of men. HIs personal troops meshed well with the skirmishers that were trained by Javin. A pre-battle meeting between the Warchief and Chief of Arrah and Javin and Dathika for the Patnan alliance.

They approached the center of the two armies. Javin and Dathika had discussed what they were willing to give in exchange for sparing Arrah the battle. They of course, fully meant to attack if the Arrahi seemed to be stalling. They couldn't risk being caught between two forces at this time.

The Warchief of Arrah spoke first, "Warchief and Speaker I believe are your titles. I am Parantaka, the appointed Warchief of Arrah. This is Chief Sundara of Arrah. We are unsure why the people of Patna would wish to destroy Arrah, but we are already past peacetime. Perhaps we can convince you to stop before more blood is shed on the grounds near our home."

Dathika spoke first, he was the Speaker of Patna, and his voice was that of the Assembly, "I am Dathika, the Speaker of the Patnan assembly. I understand your hesitation to fight. Victory or defeat here, your people will end up suffering more. The Assembly dispatched us as a means to preserve our area of influence and protect those who trade with us. If you wished to join that protection we could find a middle ground."

They spoke for nearly half an hour before they gave up. Arrah simply wished to have more than Patna was willing to give. In the end, Javin resumed his position with his troops, Dathika commanding the Skirmishers and flanks. The battle opened as before, arrows flying back and forth from the skirmishers and the Arrahi warriors. Outnumbered in total missiles in the air, the men of Patna began to slowly retreat. However, they were making an impact on the men of Arrah in a way that the Arrahi weren't on the infantry of Patna. Javin shouted for the infantry to advance and began the orderly advance. The skirmishers formed up behind the infantry who now were receiving fire, but their own skirmishers were able to fire over them for the moment. An arrow landed near Javin's foot, another hit his shield and the bone tipped projectile shattered against the copper.

There were very few losses on the way there. At about 15 meters he ordered the skirmishers to ceasefire. 10 meters to go. 5 meters. 3 Meters. "Throw!" The third row raised up and threw spears. These made a visible impact on the Arrah warriors just before the front of the shieldwall crashed into them. The allies on the flanks also clashed with the Arrahi warriors. Here the fighting was more along the lines of traditional combat and there were few casualties before some on each side withdrew to safety. In the center however, the Patnan infantry were brutally efficient. The dead piled up in the Arrahi center, however, the Warchief of the Arrahi and his chosen warriors charged from behind his own men, he could easily pick out the white skin of Javin and moved to slay the opposing warchief. He approached and he and a dozen warriors broke the center of the Patnan infantry just enough for him and two of his men to make it through the lines unscathed. The others lay dead on the front line. THe gaps closed behind them and before they could do anymore damage, Javin and a couple of the third line turned to face them. Shield and spear clashed with clubs or spears. Javin threw his spear into one of the chosen.

Drawing the copper sword, Javin circled with the Warchief, by this time most of the fighting had died down, the Arrahi warriors fleeing into the town or too wounded to continue the fight. A dozen or so Patnans watched, Dathika was wounded, but was there holding the men back. Single combat between warchiefs was not to be interrupted. Parantaka spoke, "Warchief Javin, your warriors are fierce and fight like no other. For the future of my people, I must slay you. I apologize, but this must be to the death." Nodding in understanding, Javin returned, "Where I am from, death is the only time an opposing warrior can be truly stopped."

Parantaka was a better warrior, but Javin was bigger and better equipped. Pure instincts drove Parantaka, Javin held up the shield and deflected the spear that Parantaka thrust at him, the tip was copper, but the wood of the spear snapped as Javin pushed his shield out as if he was attacking the weapon itself. Before the opposing warchief could react, Javin thrust his sword forward into the chest of the lightly armored warchief. His sword easily pierced the leathers which protected the man's chest. Blood poured from the wound as the man died. The battle took all of five seconds, but it was indicative of what was taking place in the town ahead of him. Without Javin or Dathika to control them, the town was being ransacked and fires had already begun.

Javin rushed in with Dathika and he said, "We need to take captives. Try to not let our men kill too many women and children. It may be brutal, but we should take as many back to Patna as we can. Protect them if possible. Any one who takes up arms against us should be slain."

The ransacking took the rest of the day, fires sent smoke to the skies. For the time being, it was unclear the number of dead, but at the end of the day 140 Patnan and allied warriors had taken nearly 300 prisoners, mostly women and children. The town itself was a shadow of its former self as they encamped nearby. Over the next few days they would start the trek back to Patna, within two weeks they woudl return. Nearly 100 men returned to Patna with them, 200 captives. 170 women and 30 young children. The Assembly had to decide what to do with these new people.

[Hanafuridake]

Grace Kinoshita

Toyooka Palace

“Are you mad at her?” Inuko asked. When Susam had gifted me with a slave for an attendant, I thought that she was going to be much more quiet. This one seemed defective. Every five minutes she had a question or wanted to speak to me. A sense of shame filled me for a second. This was a child, of course she was going to have questions. Despite how much I pitied the girl though, I couldn't overcome the sheer hatred that I felt for her tribe.

“Who?” that was a stupid reply, I knew who she meant.

“Ruyanpe.”

I looked down at the woodblock that I had been carving on, realizing that in this condition I was going to ruin the print. “No,” I replied, setting the knife down. “I just want her to come home to me.” my hand bawled into a fist as I admitted the truth to myself. Every day without Ruyanpe was like a torture played over and over again. I needed her back. Tears were about to fall from my eyes.

The most embarrassing thing in my life then happened. The slave came over and without saying a word, hugged me.

---

Toyooka Prison

“Let me in, I am a minister of state!” Shinryu roared at the guard, who looked at him stonily but acquiesced and allowed him into the cell room. In one of the bamboo cells sat the head of the Fudo-shū. “Are you alright, miss?” he asked worriedly before seeing the swollen gash on the side of her head. He turned around in a rage. “How dare you harm an ordained member of the sangha!” the guard stared back at him. Had he been armed, he would have struck the arrogant guardsman dead. “I order this nun released this very minute.”

Nothing, not a sound from the guard. Furiously Shinryu ran to the cell and banged on the bamboo entrance, trying to force it open.

Ayako smiled at him. “It's touching to me that you would try and save me despite our different beliefs.” she said, holding a string of beads in her lap. Shinryu looked at her, noticing how composed she was despite her pain. “In truth, I don't think that I'm going to make it out of here alive.”

“I have a command from the Mikoto herself.” Shinryu proclaimed. The guard became nervous, Shinryu felt happy to have actually managed to make the silent warrior show a hint of emotion. “Now release her.”

“No,” the guard replied, regaining his composure. “The Chancellor has proclaimed that she is not to be released for any reason.”

“The Chancellor takes his orders from Her Majesty.”

“I take my orders from the Chancellor.”

“I'm not going to run away.” Ayako said, surprising Shinryu who turned around to see her. “It would mean that I don't have faith in the vow, that I'm afraid to die. I stopped being afraid of anything when I heard the nembutsu for the first time.”

“People might die if you aren't freed.” Shinryu practically broke down, wishing that people would realize that all their petty politics didn't matter. Susam's stupid daughter running off to join the monastics didn't matter. The chain of command which he had to wrangle through didn't matter. The people who claimed to speak for the Buddha didn't matter. What mattered were that people's lives were in danger.

“Might? People are already dying.” the nun replied calmly but firmly. “Slaves die every day, but no one bothers to help them. If I run away, then everything I've said for the slaves won't matter. The masses will just continue saying and doing what they are right now.” he tried to argue with her decision, tried to muster the words, but nothing seemed to leave his lips. As he was stuck in the dilemma, the door to the prison opened and guards entered the room.

---

Toyooka Town Square

Orders were shouted that the nun of the Lotus Land School was about to be executed. Shinyu could see various monks and nuns being disrobed, all of them members of the Lotus Land. “What do you think you're doing?” he screamed, unnerving the guards who were tearing the robes from the monastics.

“Please Chancellor, the Abbottess is innocent!” / “She's a saint on earth!” / “The Buddhas will rebuke us if we let her die!” each of the pleas were dispelled by the guards.

Ayako walked calmly through the streets, looking to the side each time to see believers clutching their beads and sobbing monks and nuns who saw their abbottess walking to her death. “There's nothing to be sad about,” she told them. “I go from a corruptible body to an incorruptible body. Just recite the nembutsu and everything will be fine.”

The square became silent as the Chancellor Susam took his seat at a podium. “You are accused of treason against the state,” he rumbled, breaking into a fit of coughing. “The punishment for this is death. We have reviewed the evidence and found you guilty.”

“I did not know that I had committed a crime against a Mikoto, I thought that I had only offended a Chancellor.” Ayako replied, looking around to see the disrobed members of her school in the square. “My only wish is that if you cut off my head that it will continue to recite Namu Amida Butsu and save the birds and bees. Fifty, a hundred, ten thousand times. So that it reaches the grains of sand and saves them.”

“No one will be beheaded today.” Susam replied, and what would have been a relief for Shinryu made him terrified. He turned to the guard next to him and issued the orders. “Build the pyre.”

The guards started taking out wood and other flammable material. This was too much. Shinryu ran over to the Chancellor, blocked by guardsmen at first until he declared his rank to them. “You can't do this, Susam.” he said. “Monastics are under my jurisdiction. I had an order from the Mikoto that this nun be released. You breach the law twice over. The punishment for that would be much more severe than this girl's.”

“I have the power to override any of the Mikoto's orders.” Susam replied, looking at Shinryu with apathy. “And if you try to remind me of your rank one more time, you'll join her in the fire.” the minister's eyes widened when he realized the full implication of what the old man was saying.

The pyre was assembled and the nun was marched to be tied to the stake. “There is nothing to be afraid of, everyone.” Ayako said, taking out her prayer beads and handing them to a small nun of around eight. The child clutched them as though they were precious pearls. She glanced over at Shinryu for a moment and then into the sky. As she was tied to the stake, she kept chanting the nembutsu “Namu Amida Butsu.” despite the cries for mercy from the other monks and nuns, the guards took out a torch.

The pyre was lit and the flames spread...

[Arlye Austros]

Diego Fintel. Hamburg.
One day before the Nightmare

“Morgen. Kann ich eine Bier haben?“
The waiter smiled and offered a menu, pointing at the available options.
”Welche mögen sie trinken?” He said, switching to the Standard German before even using the more fluid Low Saxon.

Diego pointed at a specific one after comparing prices and quality, based on how little he knew about German beer. Minutes later he was tasting the bitter-sweet drink and relaxing as people passed by. Hamburg was beautiful, and an excellent starting point for his vacations. It would help him to finally forget about college, about Law School, and most importantly, Francisca. He had been thinking through the entire flight how long had it been since he didn’t love her. But now was able to rest from such tortuous thoughts and lay down as he planned his adventure through the North Sea.

After spending the rest of the day visiting a couple of museums and making arrangements for a bike tour the next day, Diego headed back to the hostel, using a basic German to leave instructions for the concierge to wake him up at seven. He left his biking gear ready on the desk of his room and laid down to the bed, giving up after four attempts at understanding different local TV shows.

He could feel the sun striking hard through his eyelids. The golden-reddish light woke him up without inducing him to open his eyes. Had the manager forgotten? The sun must have been climbing for hours. He was also cold, but not freezing. Just, exposed. He opened his eyes, only to shut them again, as the sunlight burnt straight into his retina. But the blue hues of the image he managed to get forced him to face the light once more, and what at first seemed like a bus trying to start the engine through the window turned out to be… Waves.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Diego laid on a stone, under a bright, blue sky. And in front of him the sea roared, trying to grab him. The foam and water spray fell on his body, completely exposed, and he crooked as the chilly wind was now able to scratch his skin after he had sit on the stone.

After cursing in Spanish, his brain began processing beyond the impossibility of the situation. It had to be a dream, but it couldn’t be as well. Usually when you dream you can’t notice it’s a dream, and if you do it becomes so obvious that the lie falls apart right away. But this was more real than the most real dream he could hope to imagine. He could feel the moisture of the sea, and the heat of the sun, the sting of the light in his eyes, the pebbles cutting against his buttocks. If this wasn’t being awake, it was the worst nightmare ever.

He stood up. Diego Fintel found himself alone, and screamed for anyone to answer. ”Alguien? Jemand! ANYONE!” He tried a few times, looking around. ”HILFE!” But nobody answered, only the waves.

Day one after the Nightmare

He had been too confused. Too scared too to look better around, and barely moved from the rock he had awaken on. Diego spent the night fighting off the cold on the side of the rock opposite to the sea, and trying to light a fire with humid vegetation. But to no avail. By the morning he noticed his first reference. The coast was aiming to the south east. And by the angle of the sun, if was fall or spring. He could recall it was summer in Hamburg. How long had he been asleep?

Diego welcomed the sunrays. He wasn’t sick, to his luck. For a moment he feared he would get sick and die in that place. Perhaps that way he would wake up. He was also really hungry.

The man looked around. There was not a soul to be seen, just like the day before. Not a single trace of civilization. Where was he? A small range of hills stood some miles north, running parallel to the shore. They elevated some three hundred metres only, and seemed to sink slightly below that line right in front of Diego. A ravine was coming from the U-shape of the hills, and met the sea some hundred metres to his left.

If there was no road running between mountains and shore, this was certainly not Chile. Nor anywhere he could think of in Europe. This place was entirely made up, he thought. If it was a dream, it was really good.

If he hoped to find any food, it would be in the ravine. He headed in that direction, and froze when he heard a noise that startled him. An animal he failed to identify made some hops as it escaped the intruder. Finally, he got to sink his feet in the mud, and walked through it to the running water, barely a stream. However he was able to suck some fresh water from the dirt. He then looked around for potential food sources. Nothing to be seen.

Perhaps seashells? He walked downstream and reached the sea. Then looked around.
By the time he had found some mussels, which he hoped wouldn’t be toxic, the sun had climbed through the sky, and Diego decided not to spend another night in that place. He gathered a couple of mussels more and followed the stream uphill. It took him the entire afternoon to reach the foothills, and the mussels were long gone.

This time, however, he worked on a shelter and made a fire.


Last day of the Nightmare. Eight days after Hamburg

Was he going insane? Diego contemplated forcing his way out of that dream, by dangling his feet on top of a cliff. But he couldn’t. Every single nerve-ending in his skin told him this WAS real. If only had he been casted into that hell with some company. He found himself talking alone, and no longer cared about being naked. At least he had an important layer of fat to cover him from the cold, and a strong set of legs to cover distances. He chose to stay away from the sea, but in exchange had to find better means of nurture. At least some olives grew here and there, and so he had some food source, and after the fifth night he managed to manufacture a basic rat trap, however only that morning, after his fourth try, could he finally taste meat again. He made a fire, and Diego couldn’t help screaming in satisfaction as he bit the roasted limb of the mammal. He laid on the rock. Was that his own echo? Or was he certainly going mad? He thought he heard some voices.

Diego “packed”, chocked the fire with sand and kept moving. He decided to just wander until either waking up or hitting some trace of civilization.

His trace crossed some arid hills that seemed endless, but soon, Diego realized he had been walking in circles, and was able to straighten his route north-west. After some hours the hills momentarily receded, and before him laid a flat valley which seemed to run due south-west, and gently down back towards the coast. He had no intention of returning to the sea, but having a valley with a potential water source other than sporadic ponds seemed like a good idea. Diego headed down and walked for an hour, until he could no longer ignore the voices.

“STOP!” he yelled in Spanish. Except, it wasn’t Spanish. He knew what he said, but the word he used, the sounds. It was nothing he had heard before.

Diego walked back and forth. That was it. He would wake up right there. He looked around for a rock, and kneeled before it. After taking a deep breath, he smashed his own forehead on it. And again. And again. He could feel the blood pressing in his skull, and then coming out his nose and forehead, and could see the sticky substance on the rock each time he came back to meet it. Finally his vision became blurry, and he could no longer keep doing it. Diego laid down on the ground, looking at the sun, and cried. Perhaps starvation or thirst would be his release.
He cried at the realization, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, somebody was looking down to him.
And so the Nightmare was over.

Diego Fintel.

One year after the Nightmare

They thought him crazy. A man, naked and on the verge of thirst, screaming and cursing, crying and bashing his head on a rock. Of course they thought him crazy. How wouldn’t they? Diego smiled as he watched at the horizon from the settlement. He was crazy. Who wouldn’t lose his mind at that situation?

Much to his surprise, the voices he believed to be in his head were from this people. A group of three. At first Diego thought them to be reenactors of some kind. They wore hip clothes, and carried spears fit for throwing. They aimed at him with his weapons, and Diego told them to stop. To his relief, they raised their weapons away.

But obviously, they couldn’t trust him. Why would they. They tied him up and started walking towards the hills at the other side of the valley. He couldn’t protest. But at some point mentioned “the police”. The strangers didn’t say anything, and only chattered between themselves.
Again. That strange language. Unknown at first, but as if he remembered something long-forgotten, Diego began to understand, and could even talk back. They understood when he asked them who they were, and where were they taking him, for they stopped to look at him and nodded at each other, but didn’t answer with words. Night fell.

“I am cold.” He said. One of the strangers grabbed a piece of leather from a satchel they carried, and passed it around Diego’s back, tying it by the chest. It was better than nothing, and they kept dragging him across the plain and up the hills.

They had arrived the next day at the settlement. He calculated hundreds of people lived there and the surrounding areas. Families seemed to be different from each other. Some richer, with rich, odd ornaments of silver and copper. Others, less wealthy, seemed to dress plainly and simply, and traded grain in an open market. A crowd gathered when the explorers arrived, dragging a strange animal.
“A crazy man. He was trying to kill himself, but he couldn’t.” One of the travellers announced.
“Maybe we can help.” A man from the crowd replied.

But they didn’t release him. They decided he could be useful, and so Diego spent the next year serving a group of strangers living in the hills. They didn’t treated him bad, and fed him regularly while allowing him a decent place to rest at nights, but they made it obvious to him from the way they treated him that he was not their equal, and was only little more than a slave.

He drunk from the mug he was holding while looking at the stars flaring up in the sky. He had never seen the sky so clear. Down below he saw the couple, married under the blessing of Ettagina and Koshe, goddess of fertility and the god of craftsmanship.

“Tiko. Remember to clean this mess before we wake up.” He turned to see an older man. Iarsken he was called. He was his “protector”, although Diego understood the relationship was different.
“Yes. I will make sure you don’t see a trace of the party.”

The man was celebrating his son’s marriage, and Diego –Tiko- was bound to celebrate, but also to make sure that celebration was not a burden later that day. The master of the house left, and Diego finished the mug. Very different from the beer he had in Hamburg.

[Bortslovakia]

Patrick Kolman: Dublin; Ireland- 2990 BCE Year Ten, April

I hate rain. Back in the distant 21st century, rainy days were always calming to me, or exciting even on stormy nights. Now though? It meant wet roads, extra packing, miserable travel. In other words, delays. Something you never have to think about when the most influence you have in government is your role in the constituency. Luckily the rain in question had stopped around an hour ago, leaving only black clouds and the occasional bout of lightning as the sun set. Dublin nightlife wasn't exactly the most exciting thing, but I knew of a few people that would be upset. Ideally the weather would clear up before tomorrow, allowing our section of the militia to march. The current Irish levy system was complex, but designed to raise a sizable host quickly without hampering the settlements levied from. Whereas the draft system for service was more or less just an excuse for field experience, the levy was called only for crisis situations. One of the many tasks of the local representatives was to keep track of their town's population. Thus, when the levy is called, they have little difficulty arranging a lottery that selects 5% of people aged seventeen through thirty five. A day is given for each levied individual to report in followed by an interview for potential exemptions, usually revolving around health concerns, the harvest and planting season, or lack of experience (for those having yet to do at least the month of draft training/service once). Another day is then given to make arrangements, report in again for equipment, and group up with the others levied. All things said and done, they are ready to march after two days, three tops.

At least that was how it worked on paper. This was the first time the levy had ever been called, and for all I knew people would treat it like jury duty, finding as many exemptions as possible. Dublin had its roughly forty ready, most being camped just outside of town. At least the tents were waterproof. With every towns levy, and the soldiers already in the field on patrol, we were expecting maybe four hundred. This would not be like the Drogheda conflict where one loss meant the decimation of a towns population. At least I hoped it wouldn't be. The reports stated that the migrant camp had five hundred to seven hundred residents. Hopefully we could talk them down. Maybe resettle them across the league. So far the news of raids, attempted and successful, made that possibility more unlikely by the day however. Animosity was building, and my limited experience here indicated that desperation can very quickly turn to malice if unchecked. And yet...

I turned to the ensemble of faces present in my abode. Delegates, friends, scholars, students. Basically anyone I knew that could give good advise (that also happened to be present in the city at the moment). Admittedly, the house was quite crowded. Leaning against the wall, I sighed. "I plan to lead the army myself. It's a terrible idea from a strategic standpoint, I am aware, but it's something that needs to be done as far as I'm concerned. I called you all here to present alternatives that I might be missing. I'm the only one that can negotiate with them successfully I feel, and if a fight does break out, we'll need someone that can think outside the box, considering how heavily outnumbered our force will likely be."

There were, of course, protests. Namely from Sibéal and Ciaran, the former because by this point she had more field experience than I, and the latter because... well... Ciaran's just a nice guy. Others argued that the High King leading troops had never been done before, and that it would deprive the League of its nominal executive. In this case, the aging Clodagh and ex monarch Aileas. Clodagh, my old... I hesitate to say enemy or rival only because we've worked together for so long. I still don't necessarily like him, nor him I, but we shared a mutual respect of each other finally. It's why I listened to his council, and often acted on it. He served as the opposition, or even sometimes voice of reason for my more eccentric ideas. Aileas filled a similar role, though as someone of similar age and interests to myself, as well as someone with experience managing in the same capacity as myself, our relationship was a bit more friendly. The difference between a work friend, and a friend you happen to work with I suppose. Regardless, their concerns were all ones I had considered.

I held up a hand to silence the crowd after some time, "These are all issues I've thought about at some length, and they're completely valid. That is why Aileas shall be serving as acting regent while I am gone. Likewise Maon shall take up my duties as head teacher and scribe within the city. He's basically had the job since I was given my old post back anyway. Finally Clodagh will be given stewardship over Dublin proper, Sibéal will accompany me as subcommander, and Ciaran... will keep building boats?"

That last part elicited a few chuckles, namely from Ciaran himself, but I could tell the room was still tense. Finally Sibéal spoke up, "And what if you are killed or captured? What if we lose?"

"Ehh... best not to dwell on it"


A week later, Tara

The hodgepodge of official buildings and residences around the hill of Tara were utterly surrounded by tents. See the population of Tara was almost entirely artificial. Around fifteen people actually made their residence here, and they served as attendants, or scribes. All also knew how to fish to supplement the food imported. Everyone else, namely sixty to seventy individuals, were the Representatives of towns across Ireland. They resided in Tara over the weekend to exchange news, then returned home. Some only made the trip biweekly based on how many days travel took. Thus each Representative had a small abode, making up probably 80% of the buildings in town. Beyond that there was the Council chambers, a large two room structure with enough space to house both the Representatives, and Lords comfortably. This served as the seat of government... hypothetically. Finally there were several smaller structures spread about to fulfill necessary roles. Supply storage as an example. Today however, based on the number of soldiers we had rallied, Tara was one of the largest city in Ireland. Four hundred had been a good guess it turned out. Though the manner of getting to said four hundred had been... erratic. Some lords had brought significantly more soldiers than was justified within the 5% guidelines, whereas others had phoned it in and brought less than needed. Some hadn't even shown up at all, citing concerns at home. There were also cultural differences. The militia was technically mixed gender, and had always called people to service without really showing any special privilege or malice to one group. However, Ireland itself was a bit of a 50/50 split on the whole gender norms thing. Newer settlements, and semi nomadic groups seemed not to care all too much, with the hunter gatherer lifestyle necessitating equal cooperation. More entrenched villages and cities had just begun to develop ideas on the topic, though nothing was really cemented. My own influences had just begun to seep outside of Dublin, so in the long term I doubted it would cause any issue. As of today though, it was noticeable that out of those that brought excessive numbers of troops, several had seemingly selected specifically from a pool of men. All thing said and done, it normally wouldn't be a topic worth bringing up, but this kind of information was actually extremely important to the crisis. Reports had said the migrant band was comprised of roughly 700 people, mixed between men women and children. Whether the women would fight or not would determine if we were facing a roughly equal force, if not less to our own, or a force larger than what we had. Regardless, this would be the largest battle in Ireland to date assuming I couldn't talk them down.
The final issue was, of course, all the various rulers who had shown up to fight for glory. When they joined the league, they technically gave control of their military strength over to the federal authority. Now, ten years later, we had commanders and officers trained in how to utilize their soldiers optimally. They wouldn't matter though, because here I had a host of aristocrats that expected to lead their forces into honorable battle. There had already been a few confrontations as soldiers from the same town were separated into their respective units. To keep them happy, I had invited all the present Lords and Chiefs to participate in "High Command" with myself. This specific problem was the major reason why I had decided to lead the army. Sibéal was arguably a more experienced commander than I, but there was no way in hell she'd be able to wrangle these entitled brats into following orders.

I turned to look at the assembled force from my perch on a hill some ways away from the town. The composition was, to my understanding, split roughly 50% infantry, 50% ranged, with maybe 20% of said ranged soldiers wielding crossbows. Cavalry was a long way off sadly. The horses being bred in Dublin were still simply too small to effectively be utilized. Progress was being made however, just as it was on nearly every technological front. I had dedicated way too much time to making diagrams and writing out ideas for others to work on. When I had the time, I went about helping make such ideas a reality, but one person can only do so much. Regardless, I couldn't help but feel proud of myself in that moment. All the logistical problems, politicking, and delays aside, I had created a functioning state in ten years from absolutely nothing. The people amassing below me were being asked for a lot, possibly even their lives, in the name of.... civilization? But there was no denying that their lives were better for all that had been achieved. In ten years they had gone from living only a day or two away from starvation, with no knowledge of even proper hygiene, to having stable food sources, a host of new technologies, and no need to worry over the intent of their neighboring settlements (at least not as often). Smiling, allowing myself to self indulge just a little bit, I made my way back towards the camp.

[Hanafuridake]

Grace Kinoshita

One year ago

The temple of the Lotus Land was small and modest, but to one who had been raised in huts like Nana had, she saw it as a palace. The Abbottess stood in front of her, broom in hand from where she had been sweeping the floor. “Ayako-sama, why am I called Nana?” the seven year old nun asked, remembering how nuns from other schools had impressive names while she had such a plain one.

“Your name is Nana (七), because Nana is the number seven, and you were seven when you recited the nembutsu and achieved rebirth in the Pure Land.” Ayako replied, setting the broom down so that she could talk to the little adept better. It was just the two of them in the temple center, the other monks and nuns had gone begging for alms, but Nana had chosen to stay to ask the question.

“But I haven't been reborn in the Pure Land yet...”

“Nana-chan, the Pure Land is in your heart.” Ayako said, pressing her hand against her heart for emphasis. “The Pure Land is the shinjin, we receive the shinjin the moment we say the nembutsu faithfully. Even if the most evil minded person says the nembutsu even one time, if he really means it, his heart will immediately become the shinjin and he will be reborn in the Pure Land in the here and now.”

“I don't get it,” Nana admitted, looking down embarrassingly. “Maybe I'm just an idiot.”

“We are all idiots, Nana-chan.” Ayako laughed heartily, much different from the stuffy priests who Nana had served before. “When we recite the nembutsu, we realize what fools we are. We stop being pretentious. We can start being genuine. Don't worry about being smart, be sincere.”

---

Current Time, Toyooka Square

Nana went through the debris, her hands becoming severely burnt. From the pile, however, something remained intact. A heart. Suddenly everything that she had ever believed had been confirmed before her very eyes. Tears fell down anew. “Ayako-sama, you told me that the Pure Land is the heart, and not even fire destroyed your heart.” her throat felt tight. ”You pretended to be an idiot like me, but you were really a saint.”

Tears fell from her eyes again. She lifted the heart into the air. “The heart of the saint has been preserved!” she cried out. Crying men and women prostrated, even some of the remaining guards fell down to their knees and prostrated to the relic.

---

Toyooka Palace

“You really are detestable.” Shinryu said, looking out the window of the council room. He didn't know what else he could say to the Chancellor, he didn't even know if he wanted to say anything else. Haru remained seated, not sure how to respond to the confrontation between the two other ministers. “Your daughter becomes a nun and you decide to burn an innocent woman alive?”

“Do you want to join her?” Susam asked.

“If you burn everyone who says something bad about you, you'll burn the entire empire to the ground.” Shinryu balled his hands into a fist, almost dared to punch the Chancellor in the face, but knew that he wouldn't get there before the guards.

“There is no reason to fight.” Haru said, hoping to keep the peace before fighting erupted.

As she attempted to reason with them more, Grace entered the room, clutching the Mikoto's leg was a crying slave girl. If Shinryu remembered correctly, the same slave girl that had been provided to her by Susam. “What is this I keep hearing about someone burning?” she demanded. The slave girl pointed at the Chancellor. “H - h - he murdered the abbottess.” Inuko whimpered, and Shinryu realized that she had been a devout believer in the Lotus Land.

Susam rose to strike the girl and Grace became enraged. “How dare you raise a hand to a child who's under my protection!” she roared for the guards to arrest the Chancellor, but none of them obeyed. “What!? Seize him! I am the Mikoto, I command this man be tried for murder.” the guards seemed like they didn't even hear her.

“You heard Her Majesty, she is tired, she wishes to be escorted to bed.” Susam said, and the guards seized hold of Grace, who screamed and shook her fist at them. She tried to bite one, but yelped in pain as her teeth bit into a hard bamboo neck guard. Shinryu stood paralyzed, not sure how to respond as the most powerful woman in the world was made to go to bed like a small child.

[UniversalCommons]

An Interlude Between Disasters

Victor Spear sat reading a novel of all things. It was called The Brass Ox by Zalladan. It was proving to be a very popular read.

The story begins with Buba a young scholar having time before the harvest to drink and carouse. He gets drunk and wanders onto a neighbors property and peers into the house and sees a man and a woman making love. He ogles the woman and the man curses him chasing him away from the house. The next day, he decides to go and make an apology to his neighbor and sees the woman's daughter and finding her lovely begins to converse with her. She is young and naïve and fascinating. The woman is not home, so he spends several hours at his neighbors house. The next day he comes back asking the woman about her daughter. The woman who is a sorceress flies into a rage and turns him into an ox. She ties him up to a post and tells him she plans to eat him for supper.

He manages to knock down the post because he cannot untie the knot and runs away into the countryside. He is captured and put to the plow where he works for a dishonest farmer who cheats on his grain payments to the Council of the Wise. The man is taken away by the village militia and Buba, the Ox has to escape or starve. Once more he escapes and this time is caught by a traveling merchant who hitches him to a wagon. There he hears a variety of tales as the merchant travels from city to city in his oxcart selling pottery and copper pots and vessels. The tale of the pigeon and the scholar, the horseman and the warrior, the white maiden and the thorn bush, the rise and fall of the mighty men, and the scholar of animals and plants.

After traveling to five towns, the merchant returns home and decides to sell his ox to a farmer. There Buba is harnessed to a grind stone where he grinds wheat. The miller speaks of his laments, his lack of money, his lack of a wife, and his ill fortune. Sometimes the tanner comes to visit the miller to talk of his hard life skinning animals and handling urine to cure the hides. The tanner talks of his unruly children and his demanding wife. Buba begins to realize the lot of a scholar is an easy one compared to the common people. He begins to remember the metaphor of the wheel which turns bringing some people high up and crushing others underneath it. In his memory, his master Ikavo is recounting how one should act right or be crushed by the great wheel of life.

One day, the miller has an exceptionally large load of grain to grind. He makes Buba the ox work until he collapses. Then the miller beats him with a stick because he cannot do any more. The miller decides to bring Buba, the Ox to the temple to sacrifice because he is not a strong enough ox. Buba begins to think about what led him to becoming an ox. He swears to the Great Goddess and Sabazius that he will be less foolish and lead an exemplary life. He is brought to the temple of the Great Goddess where they prepare him to be sacrificed. As the knife is raised, he begs the Great Goddess for mercy and is spared turning back into a man. He swears to serve the temple to repay the goddess sparing his life.

[Hanafuridake]

Grace Kinoshita

Toyooka Imperial Quarters

You all probably think that I deserve this fate, don't you? I couldn't blame you. The more that I thought over what had happened, the more that I realized what had been a long time coming. I had been so pathetic, hiding in my little quarters, while outside all of the people played their little political moves. Now this was what I am reduced to. A prisoner in my own empire.

“I - is everything going to be okay, mistress?” the Dog Girl asked, I looked at her with glassy eyes. She sat nervously on the floor, shaking from having been seized by the guards. It took a moment for me to remember that she was just a child. I embarrassingly remembered how angry I had become when the Chancellor had raised his hand to strike her.

“Everything will be alright.” I told her, I almost wish I hadn't because she came over and hugged me before breaking into tears. “It's alright, everything is going to be alright.” I stroked her hair and tried to think of something to comfort her. “Did you ever hear the story about how the sun goddess divorced the moon god?”

The girl looked up at me confused. “No.”

“One time the sun goddess was going to have a banquet. So she ordered her husband the moon god to visit the food goddess and have her prepare a meal. When he requested she prepare a banquet, the food goddess suddenly started spitting out food. She spat in four directions, each time a different variety of food appeared. The moon god became angry. How dare you serve me such impurities. He slew her...” maybe that was not the best story to tell the girl in this scenario, but she seemed too interested to care. “And all of a sudden, silkworms and all kinds of useful things were born from her body.”

Inuko laughed a little. “How come I've never heard that story before?”

“It's from a different time.” I replied, lost in space.

---

Hanamura

Guards stood on both sides of the palace gates, the Chancellor had given orders to let no one in except her chambermaids. Perhaps in his paranoia, he did not even trust the guards to be alone with his daughter. The chambermaids had been sent out of her room though, and the Chancellor's daughter, still dressed in the robe of a nun, sat alone with a brush and bamboo slips.

My father executed Ayako Shōnin a few days ago, and won't allow me to pay homage to the saint. Because he won't let me fulfill my duties as a nun and is trying to make me become married, I have chosen to end my life. I hope that the Buddha will forgive my sinful suicide and allow me to be born in the Pure Land. Namu Ayako Shōnin, Namu Amida Butsu

She sat the brush down and seized the rope which she had set next to her. The chambermaids hadn't even noticed it missing, or perhaps hadn't realized what she intended to do. Looking at the rafters, she threw the rope over. “Namu Amida Butsu Namu Amida Butsu Namu Amida Butsu.” she recited to herself as she tied the knot and fit the rope around her neck.

An hour later.

The maid knocked on the door. “Milady, do you need anything?” nothing, silence. The maid opened the door and let out a huge scream. The Chancellor's daughter hanged from the rafters, her body's composure calm and collected.

[Nuxipal]

Javin Torrez
8 Months Since Arrival, Fall 2996 BCE
City of Patna

It had been a few weeks since returning to Patna following the battles against Arrah. News spread of the burning of the town and the power vacuum which formed from its downfall led to the rise of two cities, both former allies of Arrah that had their own disagreements with one another. In the north, Kirat, a town of some 500 inhabitants and further south, on the eastern bank of the river, Kab, a town of 600. With Arrah in ruins many refugees made their way to these two towns. Kab was exerting some influence to the region around it, but kept clear of the towns allied to Patna. Kirat on the other hand had sent a delegation to Patna, that was just settling in before discussions between the leadership of the cities could take place. With the additional people brought in by the conflict, the population of Patna now peaked just over 1000 people during market days and dipped to around 850 on the average day.

Javin's home, one of the larger in the town, was playing host to some of the captives that they had brought from Arrah. He couldn't stand seeing these people being mistreated and took them in as a means to protect them. Little did he know, that soon enough they would be running the household for him and he would simply be free to work around the town giving advice and helping to improve the situation. He had taught them to make stronger walls for building and even how to go about constructing a wall around the town itself.

Presently, Javin found himself in Sriranga's market stall speaking with various patrons regarding personal issues. Many were former warriors who Javin led and difficulties came from their family regarding the captives that were returned. Many of his warriors married one of the captives, which they had spent time with on the return trip or met once back in Patna. It was here that he received a visit from the Kirat diplomats. The diplomats were scheduled for the following day and they wished to gain Javin's assistance in creating a peace between Kirat and Patna.

"Good day, you must be the warchief Javin who defeated the Arrahi and Kab forces that we fought alongside recently. I am Narasima, brother to our Chief Ainesh. He has sent me to create an alliance between Patna and Kirat. I had hoped to gain your favor in this endeavor. Kirat has sought to protect villages previously under Arrah's protection where Kab is extorting them and forcing them to send tribute."

Javin was fairly certain that Kab and Kirat were both conducting themselves in a similar manner, but having an ally was better than two enemies. "I see. An ally would be helpful in that region. We have an Eastern Ally, one to our west would be quite useful. I don't want to have to lead another military expedition against Kab, but I would be happy to travel to Kirat should Patna and Kirat become friends. I have done plenty of good here and I am sure that I can help you in your town as well."

Nodding, the two men continued discussing matters when Narasim gestures to one of the others with him, A woman, likely in her late teens or early twenties. "This is my daughter, Arayani. I was meant to wed her to the city's chief or chief's son, but from what I have heard, Dathika is no chief and his time as Speaker could end in less than a year. You on the other hand are an influence which won't be voted out of power in any given year. I would like you to marry my daughter to solidify this alliance."

Javin was concerned, he had already kept himself out of the marriage market of Patna. It wasn't the first time he had been offered a wife, but this time it was political. He wasn't certain declining would be a good idea. If Kirat's chief was ruling like a monarch, this was effectively a royal marriage and could bring the two people closer together. "That sounds acceptable Narasima. If we conclude an alliance and it passes a vote in the Assembly, I will marry your daughter to cement the alliance."

That was all that Narasima wished to hear, "Excellent, I do hope we can conclude the alliance." The Kirati delegation withdrew and continued perusing the markets until the following day when they would be heard before the Assembly.

[UniversalCommons]

Year 11 Month 1

Slovakia

Sitalkes and Basaba scouted ahead of the small merchant caravan. They were passing through an area thick with trees on a thinly visible road. Cenric knew where the settlements were. They were on hills and had houses with thatched roofs and mud brick walls. People had small amounts of copper and stone tools. They grew gardens and often had small groves of trees. They traded in amber from the Baltic.

Basaba had traded some obsidian which had been given to him for advice on how to plant a garden for a variety of clay dishes and wooden plates and spoons. At each place they stopped he would talk to the farmers and if there was one, the shaman or healer about local animals, herbs, rocks, trees, and plants. Cenric would translate for him. He took notes when he talked to the farmers or healers.

Basaba traded some salt for sunflower seeds. He also found some garnets after talking to one of the local healers. He traded some copper for amber beads which were becoming more common. As they traveled closer to the Baltic sea there was more amber and shells available for trade.

Sitalkes would sit with Koros the Cucuteni while Cenric and Basaba practiced their nalbinding. Basaba had made a pair of socks. They would practice common phrases in Slovak. Cenric would sometimes speak some words in Czech as well.

The roads became a little wider and more visible as they approached Ostrava and the Vistula river. A dozen of the tribesmen broke away from the group. They planned to head up the Vistula and find a place to settle. They did not feel it was safe to go to Ostrava.

The explorers finally were in sight of Ostrava. They had a motley looking caravan, a group of ten Cucuteni tribesmen, a dozen men from Oak and Varna, a train of pack goats, and a large ox drawn wagon were heading into Ostrava.

At Oak

Victor Spear and the council had prepared an edict to resettle the two groups of refugees. The refugees were attracting raiders and it was hard to protect them. Several women and children had been carried off. A few of the raiders had been killed, but there was little safety in the tents.

A group of farmers from Thassos and Olive had offered to help settle an island with some farmland where people could herd sheep and goats, farm, and fish. The new settlement would be named Fig. There were also a few merchant sailors who needed extra hands. Some of the men and women were pressed into service to help at Staro Zagora where they would serve as soldiers or farmers.

There was vigilance among the hunters. The huntsmen watched the woods more carefully making sure there were not wandering refugees or raiders.

There were some Kurgan who had been captured. Some of them felt that they were no longer Kurgan and had to start completely over. A few even committed suicide. Those who wanted to start over insisted that they be given new names. There was a ceremony which the scribes and a few priests led for the captives who wished to change their names. The captives were questioned about the Kurgan way of life.

Diaghis was at Staro Zagora. They had groups of captured horses. He was learning to ride with his group of hunters. Enyo had taken well to riding on horseback. She had even learned to direct a Kurgan wagon from a Kurgan ex-slave.

Diaghis had found three Kurgan men from the Wolf tribe who had taken payment in copper to show them how they fought. Enyo, Diaghis, and his men learned how to handle the Kurgan bronze axe, the horse headed mace, the javelin, and the short bow. Two of the men from the Wolf Tribe had even offered to spy on the Horse Tribe. They were angry at the change in leadership.

The Wolf style was based on moving quickly with strong blows and warcries. Diaghis thought it was imperative that they learned as much about Kurgan warfare as they could before Oleg decided to fight them. Enyo was certain that this would happen.

Victor Spear worried that they should not expand too fast. If they expanded too fast, their administrative capability would fall apart. The scribes were stretched thin and had been decimated by disease. Accepting the town of Hisarya would work, however, adding more territory would make the Nestos League unstable. Before he accepted their joining the league, he asked that they send additional soldiers and farmers to help stabilize the countryside.

They needed help to make sure that they would not be overrun by refugees from the Tribal Alliance.

A Meeting at the Council.

Victor Spear, “We must test the scribes and the servants of the temples. It is not enough to assume that the people in leadership roles are competent. We have seen some incompetence in both the book fire and the handling of the pigeons.”

Den, “When I served in the House of Life, we were interviewed to see if we could perform our duties. I think we should visit the scribes and assess them. Not everyone should be in positions of authority.”

Penelope, “I am not sure that is enough. How do we know that they are competent.”

Victor Spear, “We taught a standard set of knowledge in our classes for literacy. There should be a base to build on which the scribes should know. A common set of values and thinking.”

Scorylo, “We already give them standard scribal tests to pass their studies. What more do we need?”

Victor Spear, “A universal exam system which anyone can challenge to have scribal authority. Not all of the scribes are taught in our schools.”

Scorylo, “When we build the new tower, we should have a special test to see that people are very qualified. Also an interview. The tower should be a place for our best to go. An aspirational space, a tower of learning.”

Victor Spear, “How is that going? Do you think it will be a safe space to keep pigeons as well as more dangerous experiments?”

Scorylo, “A place like this is only as safe as the people who work in it. We have designed a tower three stories tall with a wall and ditch with labs like the one in Oak and a place for pigeons.”

Penelope, “It should be more secure than Oak if we plan to do dangerous experiments. I have spoken to Victor Spear of substances which he calls acids and chemicals. Dangerous things which must be contained.”

Victor Spear, “ Find a way to build it four or five stories tall if you can. If we are to pursue natural philosophy, we must be prepared to understand the more dangerous things in nature, the fire from volcanoes, the poisons of plants, lightning, floods, and tornadoes, disease, and aging. Probing natures secrets will upset many.”

Scorylo, “That will be a challenge.”

Victor Spear, “Where I came from there were towers that scraped the sky. It can be done.”

Den, “We must be prepared to bless such a place and ward it from evil spirits. It must be seen as special.”

At Varna and Shuman

At Varna more nomads came through in small groups. They headed north into Cucuteni lands. Several of the Cucuteni settlements had been approached and offered protection in exchange for a yearly tribute of grain, copper, and women. The nomads took the best pastureland and promised to protect the Cucuteni settlements. Most could do little to resist.

Further up the river, the hammer men grew in number as hunters and the few warriors among the Cucuteni gathered. They began to build the crude walls of the town higher and dig a ditch around the settlement. They placed sharpened spikes next to the walls. They practiced with the bow, sling, and hammer. Some even formed simple lines having heard strange stories of men who fought in lines. Their leader whipped them into a frenzy.

At Shuman, Oleg offered protection and hospitality to any farmer from the Tribal Alliance who would return to their land. They would pay tribute to the Horse Tribe. The Horse Tribe took the best pasture land, but took little farmland. Many of the nomads and a few warriors from Varna moved into the hill fortress overlooking the farm and pasture land below.

In the Country Side

The women had taken over more of the farming. Some had even worked on making sure irrigating the fields was done. There were not as many people available to work on the irrigation works. Some of the women would approach the Cucuteni settlers on the riverbanks offering them work to help irrigate the fields in exchange for better tools from the soldier farmers who were at war up north.

Because there was less food, the storage bins were inspected more thoroughly. Also, there was greater use of dogs to hunt vermin and plants which kept away pests.

A new glaze sealant was added to the outside of the storage bins for grains. The temple of the Great Goddess brought out new vegetable seed varieties which they had been breeding for higher yields for tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, peas, carrots, and other garden vegetables as well as new fruit tree varieties. Goats, ducks, and cattle were being bred for more meat using Mendelian genetics.

Penelope and some of the priests of the Great Goddess began to experiment with a new variety of wheat with higher yields.

[Arlye Austros]

Diego Fintel
Southern Iberian Peninsula
2997 B.C. – Three years after the Landing

“So you believe there is land beyond the sea?” The boy asked the man, who kept watching towards the horizon.
“There is always more land beyond. And yes, I think there is a large country to the south, just a day of sail.”
“Does it have a name?” The boy insisted. Diego didn’t want to answer.

At this point, three years after he arrived, he had a rough idea of where he was, and when:
It was a shore generally oriented to the south or south-east, somewhere in the northern hemisphere. He conceived the possibility he wasn’t on Earth, but he was, at this point, certain. Diego was able to recognize every constellation, so this was Earth. As for when, Nobody ever mentioned, nor did he ever witness in the number of times he followed his master out of the group of houses, any trace of the civilization that would cover practically all of the that latitude. Somebody would have seen a highway, flat with cement, or remains of buildings, or loose cables laying around. These humans hadn’t been preceded by his humans. So almost without doubt, this was a time before his own era. Diego had travelled through to the past. Now, this allows him to pinpoint more precisely there where and when. These people were distinctively European or Caucasian, with eyes wider than those to be found in the east or in the Americas, and skin lighter than the one to be found in Africa or Oceania. And they did manage some technology, but lacked other. They worked some metals. He could recognize copper, as it would be, in thousands of years, the main resource of his country. However he couldn’t see them managing Bronze or Iron. So he ventured to think these people were, technologically at least, somewhere between the Neolithic and the Bronze Age. Given all that information, he could guess that he was also in Europe’s southern shore, due to the weather. And the weather, finally, provided the clue that allowed him to pinpoint his location. Dry wind came from beyond the sea, especially during summer, and kept the area he was staying at dry through practically the entire year, sometimes bringing sandstorms. However when the wind flowed from either west or east, it would bring rains. This hinted Diego the existence of seas on both sides. Most importantly, the west winds were colder, It this was the Mediterranean Sea, the winds coming from the west were coming from the Atlantic, the sand-warmed southern winds from the Sahara Desert, and the stable winds from the east from the Mediterranean itself. His belief this happened to be Southern Spain was further confirmed when told to the north existed a large river. Luckily for him, he was able identify that river as the Guadalquivir, thanks to Spanish History classes in Law School.

He looked at the boy, Eintás. The pre-teen was the youngest of Iarsken’s children.
“Not yet. If you get there you can call it whatever you want. ”

“Watch out from putting strange ideas in the boy’s mind, Tiko. If he gets hurt from that it will be on your head.” Bireiün, a young man and second child of Iarsken, walked towards them from inside the circular house. The sun was slowly rising. “Besides…” He continued while sitting at the edge of the house’s foundation and working on a spearhead made of copper. “There is no point of going south. To the north there are more fertile lands, and people too weak to defend them. We will be heading north once the Elders agree.”

It was the intention of the young people of the settlement to do so. Head north and subdue other peoples. The town called “Ors-Lakoshkan”, the place of the Lakossians, as Diego was able to roughly translate it, was composed forty families living within the walled area, and others out of it. Ruled by a council of elders from the oldest families within the community, this group of people registered a number of campaigns north, in order to subdue other villages, gather resources and workers to increase their numbers and material riches. Thus, the village was at this point at the verge of becoming a pre-city, Diego thought.

However the elders in place had no intention of launching another military campaign, and preferred to send messengers to nearby towns. The young were, on the other hand, eager to prove their worth.
The town had subdued the smaller community located up-river called “Hidub”, and kept control of some families scattered through the dry river to the north east, roughly the way Diego had been brought from. They also made military campaigns every couple of years to the town they called “Prigos”, located to the east, and had made some minor settlements tributary, while forcing the “Prigosshkan” to pay tribute as well, but leaving them to their own affairs. Most importantly, they raided the people they called “Obosshkan”, or people of the river, who were said to live by the tributaries and banks of a large river to the north, the one Diego knew to be the Guadalquivir.

So this was a militaristic, albeit still simplistic, society. They were not able to muster a professional force, and Diego thought it would take them thousands of years to do so. Perhaps this place would long be abandoned before people with any resemblance of what he studied in Law School would come to populate this region, let alone the well-known Romans and Visigoths.

Diego smiled. After all, he was arguing with his superior, the son of his “protector”.
“Of course. There is no point to sail south.” He granted before standing up.
“I must clean the inside. Is the rest of your family awake? If not I will check the livestock.”
But his master’s family was still not awake, so Diego headed to the rudimentary pens behind the circular house, and fed the animals, thinking if there was any chance for him to turn back, and return to his era.

[New Arcadius]

Gaukhar Erzhanova

Year 1, Month 4, Week 2

Chapter 5 - The Battle of Qara Oasis (Siwa vs Qara)

Qara Oasis
The Qara Oasis, though not much bigger than the Siwa Oasis, was still nonetheless inhabited by people who are similar to the Siwa. Their matrilenial leadership was similar to that of the system back in Siwa. Qara would have more of a supply of salt due to being near a depression, and nearer to the salt flats. In addition, they have more wild game and something that Siwa doesn't have: Copper. Veins of Copper are located near the Oasis, and it is much stronger than the current stone material that the Siwa Oasis has.

Warriors of the Qara Oasis were all preparing for their battle against the invading Siwa lead by a giant of a woman with her strange barbaric features. It was amazing how they would even accept such a woman into their ranks so soon. So easily. It was almost as if the Eastern Winds itself, bought forth a curse to the Qara. Many soldiers with their copper weapons were ready to face against the incoming Siwa. Though they knew that the Siwa had inferior weaponry to them, they still had more people at the helm, ready to attack and get their vengeance on them.

Qara's Chieftess would know that the Siwa Chieftess would of eventually put this age old rivalry to an end... but she would never anticipated for her to attack directly back.

...

Through the valleys of the sandstone cliffs that encased the area, I glanced around for a moment at the unfamiliar terrain. This would be the first time I ever exited the Oasis itself and ventured out into the vast desert that was the Sahara. I felt comfortable going east... since it seems that it was more promising and lower to view than going west which had the higher dunes. The sandstone cliffs that encased the area was quite breathtaking to go through. Even when we were probably going to kill many, this area seems to be ideal tourist spot... Just minus the annoying people trying to take pictures, and throwing their crap everywhere, polluting the sites, or butchering any languages.

I would then hold up my hand as soon as I saw the view.

Magher took a upclose view with Masuna and I. It seemed that from here, we had a pretty good vantage point where they can't see us, but probably would no doubt send scouts up here. Masuna waved his hand towards the other soldiers behind and Iafis.

"It seems that their defenses are pretty strong." Masuna said. "No doubt it won't be a walk in the park if we just instantly strike at them. There should be other measures we could use."

I nodded. "The use of the terrain against them would be a viable option. Tactically speaking, if we can lure some of them here, cut them down, and use their weapons against them, it could help even the odds a bit more."

Magher scratched his chin. He seemed to like the idea. "But what would happen if they gather more people to join them? The Qara have more people than we do, and they can muster as much men as they can to defend their village fiercely. In addition, if we keep using the same tactic of luring them to the same location, or if we lure them too many times, they'll start to notice, and just cause our casualties to rise."

I nodded at Magher's council. "You're right..." I said.

"We could instead, try to make them submit and break their spirits, rather than try to full out kill everyone. After all, if this is a war of honour, and no civilian is killed, it will be a higher likely hood of them surrendering." Iafis spoke up. "It would be something my father would want. We are of the same blood, even if they are foreign... apparently."

I got up and held my hand up and moved them in a certain way, as everyone got into the formation. The box formation, which was an easy one to know. I gestured for four of the soldiers to come up. "The battle is about to begin. Go forth and lure the enemy up here. We'll remain in hiding." I ordered. "Archers, spearmen, lay in hiding, and surprise the enemy."

The soldiers begun to follow the orders, and I went into hiding with my own stone weapon in hand. I hoped this plan worked.

...

Shouting and charging could be heard coming down the hillside as four Siwa men threw their spears at the Qara Spearmen. With their copper tipped weapons, they begun to charge back at them, until they started to retreat. Though they got one, it wouldn't take long for them to begin to pursuit the remaining. A good total of six of the spearmen begun to rush after the three towards the entrance cliff. Little did they know that they would be running into an ambush...

As soon as the three men begun to go out of sight, the six would look around until they heard a,

"NOW!!!!"

Stone arrows would hit the spearmens backs and felt themselves being impaled by the Siwans. Clever planning had came to their attention that now, they became a victim of a horrific ambush. Their corpses would lay there, while their spears had been stolen.

It wouldn't be long until the Qara noticed yet another attempt, this time, with six Siwans. The same process would repeat yet again, but this time, in a spot not so far from their own village. The warriors would begin to take notice that each time their spearmen disappear, the weapons would be like theirs...

When a third attempt came, it wasn't just a few, but the entire Siwan force. This time however, they didn't appear to have retreat, but are all in formation, this time, with their commander, the Giant... tess foreign woman?

...

It was at this point, I glanced directly at the Qaran Soldiers that were infront of me. They seem quite shocked on how tall I was. This inducted more fear into them as they readied their weapons to come up against our own soldiers. I simply stood there and pointed my fingers forth, ordering the archers to fire at them. Their numbers were larger, but it didn't matter. I observed as the two armies begun to clash, and fight among eachother. I myself, partook in it, slashing at the soldiers. Though one tried to jab me, I was lucky that Magher himself stabbed them before that happened. I was relieved and kissed his cheek.

The battle itself was relatively short, but it was pretty blood, and messy. As many as about 6 of our own died, including one of the females, but they had lost more, over twenty or so I believe...? This was due to our better organization, and tactics that we deployed against them earlier to help beat down their numbers. Our soldiers would stand proudly, victorious over the now scattered and defeated army. As I ordered my men to take their weapons and discard their old ones, I would have them march into the village, towards the Chieftess' home. The villagers, scared, though not few, stood back as we had their weapons and heads as the trophies of their defeated selves.

I would barge into the Chieftess' hovel, and presented the head of their supposed commander. She was shocked and disgusted. "You have been beaten, surrender, and we will show mercy. Refuse, and face annihilation." I ordered.

The Qaran Chieftess was lost for words... Tears came down her eyes. "Is this the barbaricness Tugertent would bring to our people? Our home?" she wept. "To kill my people, our blood? Our people are related to the Isiwans, and this is how she shows it?... If that is what she wants to show, we don't have a choice... just take what you need, and go"

I glanced down at her and leaned, placing my spear down. "Chieftess, I have no intentions on burning down the Qaran Village." she said. "Your people are connected through a thread of unity, and by burning down everything, then your sons, your daughters, everyone, would never see their relatives ever again. I seek not to kill you, nor burn you. I seek to unify, to make you see reason. To raid your own relatives isn't right in it's self. For a greater future, I urge you, lay down your sword, and become apart of the Siwans."

She glanced at my eyes in frustration and wonder. "And what do you know about our threads, barbarian?! Heck, how do you even know what I said?! And how do you even speak it?!"

I sighed. "Through Faith, and the will of God, is it a crime to not speak the language of our brothers and sisters? You, of all people, should understand this. You seem as young as Chieftess Tugertent, but even still, I may not be of your people, nor I am related to them, but I know for sure, it would be wrong of I to see your people burn, and suffer, over conflicts like this between us. I ask again, submit."

The Chieftess lowered her head and sighed. She was right... Tugertent didn't wanted to see the Qara wither and die. I then placed my hand on hers, a symbol I know from a game that would be that of a humble, benevolent person. I glanced at her again with more pleading eyes, as the Qaran Chieftess looked at mine.

"Very well... if it is what your faith requires, I have a feeling it would be unwise to ignore the Gods. I hereby surrender to the people of the Isiwan... May this be a new era of Qaran and Siwan unity, and we both live peacefully to the end of time."

I smiled and nodded, the other soldiers behind me cheered in celebration of the new unity of the Qaran and Siwan peoples.

Siwa Oasis
The accords of peace has been settled, as I had the two chieftesses sit down at the table, peacefully coming to a resolution of a surrender, and extended the borders of the Isiwan, expanding their influence even further. With this, the Siwans now have access to better materials, such as copper, access to the Qattara Depression, which held great abundance of salt, more game, and fresh trees of pomegranates that grew around the oasis. With that, I believe I had upgraded the Siwans to the Copper Age or something... not so sure, but this new material would be indeed something of a use. There probably wasn't as much in the sandstone cliffs, but it was a start.

[Hanafuridake]

Grace Kinoshita (9 years, 8 months)

Toyooka Palace

The halls of the palace were quiet, it seemed that the Daijō-daijin had reconvened the assemblage of the imperial court to another location under the pretext that the Mikoto was ill and did not wish to be disturbed. From what the chatter of the guards could be heard, most courtiers did not challenge this explanation, either through fear of the Daijō-daijin or relief that the unstable Mikoto was no longer prowling the halls.

Dammit, how could someone like me allow myself to be played by a wood gatherer? The sound of my gritted teeth frightened Inuko who sat next to me, twisting the hedges of her tunic nervously. That was right. We were going to be presented our new clothes today. Once a week, the Chancellor would provide us with new clothes and a bath, perhaps he realized that a clean hostage was better than a filthy one.

“I hate this city,” I muttered aloud, thinking about how my luck had run sour the moment I had settled on making this the capital. I knew I had to reach my loyalists to the south. The Wakayama Bugyō, yes. He had the most forces at the present moment, further there was no loss between the Chancellor and him. An honor bound religious devotee of the Lotus Sutra. Perfect.

But there was the question about how to reach him. I was not allowed to leave my quarters and while the slave girl... no, Inu... was allowed to leave on occasion to take out the chamberpot, she was kept under strict supervision. Her outburst against the Chancellor had revealed where her true allegiances lay. It dawned on me that she had been intended to be a plant. A spy to gather information about me. But she didn't.

I opened the window and looked out, too high to jump. One would break several bones at least. That was no use.

“What are you doing, milady?” she asked, maybe worried about me jumping. If so, she was a silly girl. That was no way for someone who had come this far to die.

“Trying to think of a way to get out.” I replied, looking around. Conceivably someone could climb the roof and slowly make their way down to the bottom. I started to climb out the window before realizing that it was no use. I was too large (the first time that I had ever had to tell myself that) and too recognizable. The guards would catch me within a minute if I wandered the streets.

Inu grabbed hold of my robe. “Please uesama, don't hurt yourself.”

This was going to be a gambit. I hesitated for a moment, for once, I didn't know if I wanted to ask this. “Are you a good climber?”

She seemed confused by the question, as though she didn't understand me at first. “A - a little. When I was a slave to the Chancellor's household, I liked climbing when no one was looking. I stole the older daughter's favorite amulet one time.” she looked downward, maybe expecting me to punish her.

“That's wonderful!” I was thrilled, but the threat of danger loomed in the back of my mind. “I need you to climb out of the palace and head south to alert the magistrate of Wakayama that I am being treacherously detained by a rebellious vassal.” I went toward the small drawer that I had, looking through the maps that I had made. Which was one which showed a path to Wakayama? I rummaged through them until I found the one.

“What do I do if someone catches me?”

“Don't let anyone catch you,” I replied, that was one thing that I could be sure of. A man who ordered the brutal execution of an innocent nun would have no compunction about removing anyone who stood in the way of his ambitions. “Don't tell anyone who's not in the direct employ of one of the Bugyō. We can't trust anyone in this city. This city is rotten, inside and outside.” a thought crossed my mind. “If you find a girl named Ruyanpe, tell her everything. She's a friend, you can trust her.”

Was it a trek that a small child could make on her own? I hesitated. What's this? Did I actually care about her?

“O - o - okay, I'll do it.” she stammered, bowing her head to indicate she understood the order.

“You must be brave, Inuko.” I told her, handing her a map that I had drawn of Nara. “Find the Bugyo of Wakayama, tell him what happened. He must prepare his forces to retake Toyooka.” without responding, she reached out and hugged me. “What's this? It must be the third time you've hugged me.” for the first time I returned the hug.

“I love you.” Inu whimpered, almost breaking into tears. “Ever since I first saw you. I thought that you were the person who I wanted to be my mother.” tears started to swell up inside me, how could I ever have mistreated this innocent child. “Can I call you mama?”

“Yes, Inu-tan. I'm your mother and you're my daughter.” I stroked her hair gently, enjoying a motherly feeling that overwhelmed the feeling of guilt that I had had. “When you come back, you're not going to be a slave. You're going to be my daughter. Kinoshita no Inuko.”

“Mama...” Inuko laughed in joy. “I have a mama, the best in the world.” she held the map with a renewed confidence and opened the window. “I'll be back as fast as I can.” and like that she was gone.

[Aureumterra]

Wilson James

Chapter III: The Growth

Witch! Witch! Witch! The tribespeople cried as I woke up, shocked to see a mob around my house. Two snakes had mated and were circling around my house, it was obvious these guys weren’t big fans of snakes, because snakes reproducing near my house made them think I was a witch. Fuck. Chief Fanaka stood outside, shaking his head, as well as Kitwana. I walked out and a massive uproar went up, everyone wanted to take me and crucify me… or whatever they did to witches in tribal Africa. I simply held my hand up, they did think I was supernatural in some way, good or bad, so I did manage to silence them.

“The beast known as the serpent is a virtue, not a terror, hence why they would mate in the settlement of man, they might attack and kill, but they do more good than harm. This is a signal from the spirits that we must embrace these.” I said, trying to sound as spirit-like as possible. “How do they help?” A man asked. “Do you know the fruits that our people go out to gather for food every day? The berries, bananas, and pomegranates you pick are eaten by mice. Mice destroy these fruits, they are the incarnation of evil spirits, but serpents, incarnations of good spirits, are ones that kill and eat the mice.” I said, taking a deep breath and embracing for a continued onslaught. To my surprise, the improvisation seemed to work, as they seemed convinced that I, the guy from the spirits, would know a thing or two about spirits.

I continued teaching the Kamba about building better weapons, the bronze spears had done wonders, and now, the tribes of the entire river valley had fallen under Kamba control. However, the talk of berries and fruits had made people interested in them a bit more. One tribe that we newly conquered had managed to figure out that seeds grow these plants, and shared that information to the Kamba after their fall. As such, I decided now would be a good time to get some agriculture going. I pretended to communicate with “the spirits”, “The spirits have given us orders. We shall take the seeds of these plants and bury them under the ground. We shall give them water, and wait for them to grow…” I said. Immediately, many tribesman got to gathering seeds from numerous trees and bushes. Over the course of the month, they grew. The bushes bore fruit first… and amazed the tribespeople. Pretty soon, everyone’s household had started growing their own berry bushes, every house erected a plot of land in the back where the bushes would be grown.

Next was grain, again which was introduced by me. It seemed wheat and corn hadn’t been brought here yet, so I went with the only grain I could find… millet. Not the best, but it was a start. I taught the idea of mass agriculture around the banks of the river, by building canals and irrigating. Pretty soon, many who weren’t strong enough to be warriors started taking large plots of land on the riverbank and growing millet. Flour came naturally, as well as bread, and pretty soon, proper trade had started within the numerous villages of the Kamba “empire.” The river itself was named the Kamba river now, we had used our bronze spears to conquer nearly very tribe in the valley.

The extra food meant that there was enough to support more people, and naturally, women who survived their first childbirth were obligated to have more children to help out in the fields. After just a few months of being here, I had transformed this regular African hunting tribe into the first civilization that I knew of on the continent. Remembering to 6th grade history, this was around the time Mesopotamia started developing, so I realized how massive my decision would change the future. I was still weirded out by this whole thing, but like mentioned before, I just decided to “go with the flow.”

[Arlye Austros]

Diego Fintel
Southern Iberian Peninsula
2995 B.C. – Five years after the Landing

Winter had been tough. Not only for the village of Ors-Lakoshkan, who had suffered the demise of several of its inhabitants, but also for Diego, who often wondered what his role in all of this was. The impossible prospect of returning to his time invaded his mind every hour, and even interfered with his work raising walls and moving grain. He would often find himself desperate for release, and walked to the highest terraces in the town, contemplating if a fall would kill him, only to return after reconsideration.
But the winter was coming to an end, and the cold days were replaced by warm evenings and even warmer nights. The top of the mountains to the east and the west shed off their white caps, and the range to the north showed off white-topped towers as the sole survivors of the ever-increasing temperatures.
And thus, the Elder Council met. Iarsken’s eldest son, Kiarsnas, stepped on in front of the council and the village. His father had died, and so every property Iarsken once had, including houses, animals and slaves, were now at his disposal. As such, at his twenty-nine, he was one of the most powerful and influential of the Lakossians.

“Our numbers have dwindled. You just need to look for the names of your families in the mounds. We lack hunters and plowers, warriors and craftsmen. Many children have died, and with them many women to replace them. The time is ripe for our enemies, Prigosshkan to the east, to turn against us and snatch the land we earned; Gidhub, to fight us and humiliate us; Even the Obosshkan beyond the mountains could come to us in our weakness, should we allow them.”

The majority of the people agreed by raising their voices and bashing the ground with their feet as Kiarsnas enumerated the threats under the light of the fire. Diego watched from beyond the circle, sitting over a hut and accompanied by a teenager Eintás, who joined the others in excitement. Diego noticed most of those who agreed were among the youngest, and none was as old as the elders sitting in the first row of the circle facing the fire.

“We must not waste a day. We must march to replenish our numbers. Let us go north, attack our enemies as we have before, and strike the Obosshkan. Take their tools and women, enslave their children so that they can work for us. And once we return, let us build walls to defend ourselves, and prepare and grow safe before we show our strength to the rest.”

The crowd cheered, but Diego noticed the elders. They looked at each other and nodded. One raised his hand.
“Kiarsnas Iarsken’khs, you are well known to be full of energy, as your father was. However you propose a lack of thought and force of mind. If we were to take our warriors north, do you expect the people you spoke of not to attack us as we are gone?”

The elder and a portion of the people, even some of those who agreed with the youth, agreed with a similar sound, less enthusiastic, sterner.
“Venerated fathers.” The youth replied with humility. “Here we will starve. We simply don’t have the numbers to sustain ourselves. If our enemies are as thoughtful as you believe yourselves, they will simply wait out until we are weaker and weaker. Then they will come.”

“Hear my brother!” Bireiün, Kiarsnas’s younger brother, continued before any single reaction could be laid by the crowd. “For only in the offensive can we bear to hope any advantage. Not only we have the impetus and will, but the new tools that will open our chances of victory.” He said before lifting in his hand and metallic object, copper-made, and finely crafted. Diego recognized what the red-lit object was. A sword. Not the best quality, but good enough to put every cutting tool the village wielded to shame. Was this forty to fifty centimetres-long blade the first of its kind? Those closer to Bireiün watched with a glimmer in their eyes as the youth swung the weapon. “This is merely one of many long-knives, and soon to be more. With this we can kill our enemies, who now use stone-cutters and spears of metal, before they even have a chance. But it must be us who begin hostilities.”

This revelation gathered even more support for the youth. The elders looked around, and realized they couldn’t argue any more. The one who spoke before raised his hand, but only after Eintás, sitting beside Diego, blew a bull horn, did the exalted village made silence to listen.

“Your intentions might be well-motivated, Kiersnas…” The elder hesitated, looking among the crowd. The youth was armed. Diego noticed at least a dozen copper swords silently scattered among the crowd. He knew if the old man denied the young man his glory he would see no morning. “And I hope that well-intend is enough. I believe we must sanction a campaign to the north, to collect workers and cattle, as well as tools and metal-stones. You will depart in a month’s time, and be back before the end of fall. However, your brother Bireiün will stay, and he will be trusted with the defence of the village.”

The people cheered the resolution, at least the majority, and Eintás announced the joy by blowing his horn once more. Diego looked in Bireiün’s face. He hoped to see some anger at being denied the chance to go north and fight, but Diego saw in his face a smirk, a smile. The traveller climbed down the wall and headed into the family hut. Other slaves returned with him and prepared supper. At the table, Eintás admired the blade, while Bireiün talked with his brother about the ways he would have to deal with the defence of the village.
“I am sure we can scare off any attempt on us with twenty well-armed warriors. They don’t need to be experts, just look shinny and fierce.”

The younger brother proposed. But the eldest wasn’t so sure.
“It’ won’t be that easy. We must have some kind of further defence. I will head out in two days to the nearby villages, and demand the sons of the chiefs to be left as hostages. Should they try anything on us you mutilate them. Should they touch one wall, you will decapitate them.”

Diego listened to this, horrified, but wasn’t allowed to say a thing. Eintás left down the knife and looked at his brothers. “If we bring riches from the north, maybe I could then head south, to the shore Tiko spoke about, and trade.”
Both elder brothers looked at the fourth, then at the slave who was carrying a wooden plate. Diego froze on the spot, and Bireiün spoke with a hissing rage.

“I told you not to mention that to the boy ever again.”
“I… He insisted…” Diego defended himself. Bireiün looked at Eintás, then at Kiersnas.
“He is not your master. My brother is. He is only a boy without a say on anything. Yet you say that <<he insisted>>?”

“Nor is he yours to treat him like that.” Eintás argued. Kiersnas agreed.

“He is mine. But you are right, Bireiün. Tiko had no right.” The elder brother stood up and walked to the slave, who couldn’t hide a slight shake. He had seen how punishment was delivered to others. “And I agree with my brother, that you should not speak of the south, or anywhere else, ever. Or I will cut your tongue.” He said while he grabbed a knife, and quickly snatched Diego’s hair, forcing him to bend back. “Are we clear?”

Diego nodded, and the brother allowed him to fall to his feet, dropping the plate.

“Bir. Take him outside, deliver proper punishment, but I want him able to come with us, so break no bone and leave no deep scar.”
Diego was taken outside by Bireiün and other slave, and once at the front of the house he was beaten a number of times with sticks. When they were done he could count his bones out of the pain. Kiersnas came to him and crouched. “You will come with us. I don’t want to hear you talking to my brother about the world. But I want to hear it from you.”

[Nuxipal]

Javin Torrez
One Year, Three Months Since Arrival. Spring 2995 BCE.
City of Patna

The Assembly met to speak with the diplomatic group from Kirat. Agreements were easy to come to, both needed an ally, and both were interested in keeping the peace along the Sone and Ganges rivers. By the end of that month, Narasima and Javin met once again and made plans regarding the political marriage and set those plans into motion. Arayani, Narasima's daughter, wed and lived with Javin following the wedding. She was intelligent for a person of her status. Javin was typically busy dealing with the daily needs of Patna, but as time went along he began having a better idea of when he was instead of just where.

He wasn't very knowledgeable regarding ancient Indian history prior to the Vedic Texts. So, he was in a sort of sandbox for what can be done here until the migration period which would bring in the Migrations, however, he would likely die long before they arrived. Without much knowledge of how and where to get all the resources needed to get Patna better weapons, armor, and the like, Javin decided that he would need to focus on having them expand their trade network so that they could come into contact with someone who would be able to raise their technological levels. He knew far up the Ganges the Indus River should have civilizations in contact with city-states which would be more advanced. However, for this society, that distance was impossible. For now, they would rely on the northern Copper routes to bring new Copper into the city and look for ways to better serve the people of Patna.

Javin and Arayani got along well enough. Arayani took control over the house and began organizing expansions to it. She had a knack for organization and planning for the future. With Javin's agreement, she organized the others living with them into groups who would help to expand their home. Javin used coin and his own skills to help with construction efforts, the large home would soon have an additional six rooms, which would easily accommodate the women which Javin had taken in after the war with Arrah. While some of the original women had left and been married off, others had found their way into his service and were proving themselves useful.

With city elections in only a few days, Javin had somehow gotten nominated for the Speaker position again, against his will. However, this time Arayani suggested he go ahead and try to win the position anyway. He had been in the town for more than a year and many of the people knew him because of how much impact he had on their lives. His opposition was Dathika, seeking a second term. The night came when the two of them would put their ideas to the Assembly. Dathika went first he spoke about the progress made since his election and his plans for the next year. The Assembly seemed to listen, but weren't excited for his plans. They had only elected him previously because of the bribes he made, however, as time moved on the promises of more money became less lucrative than the trade which already flowed into the city.

Javin walked to the Speaker's platform and began explaining his ideas for Patna. "As you know, I helped to initiate the Assembly system we currently have in place. I led our warriors in battle and have since taken a back seat in the running of the city to focus on our people. Trade flows into our city and new people and ideas settle here every month. This next year will be no more important than the last year. We may not face another enemy in battle, but we will need to strengthen our warriors into a permanent town guard. We may be larger than ever before, but we may need those hands to pull in a larger harvest. Organization and planning for our future is what will be vital this next year. I believe that I have proven to be capable of this organization and able to plan for the future of Patna better than Dathika, who has done an excellent job in his first term as Speaker. Give me the second year as Speaker and I will ensure whoever has the third year as Speaker will inherit a stronger Patna."

There was a few who stood and applauded, but as with Dathika, most seemed to be more interested in their own affairs. However, by the end of the night, Dathika had once again won the vote, by the narrowest of margins, three votes to be precise. So for the second straight year, Dathika would be the Speaker of Patna. Javin returned home and spoke with his wife. It was sad news, but she consoled him and notified him that the builders said the house's expansion would be done within a few weeks and then they would not feel so crowded with the extra women and the few kids in the house.