A Different World: Imperium and Empire [IC|Closed]

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 6:57 am

Imperium and Empire

The sun rises on a new world- a world not like that you may know. Shattered by a catastrophic impact not long after the extinction of the dinosaurs, Earth is not as it should be. This impact, a star falling to earth, changed not only the shape of the world, but also her content; this star bore strange light and eldritch crystals, warping and altering the planet where humanity slowly arose. Continents were broken, minds shattered, even animals and plants twisted and changed. It is a different world, one in many ways hostile to humanity- but in the end, it is your world.

You stand forward as one of the leaders of a grand empire, an empire amongst many. It has been over a thousand years now since the first tribes emerged in the impact of the Cataclysm, family groups formed from scattered wanderers and survivors, and now from those first few tribes and city-states immense nations and countries have emerged, shaping the world about them. Iron armed warriors march in their thousands, wielding weapons both mundane and mystical, and great siege engines roll across the plains to beleaguer cities of formidable walls and sprawling scale. Atop cyclopean wonders priests offer sacrifices to strange gods, and call upon arcane powers to both aid their fellows and smite their foes. This is a time of grandeur, of culture, of beauty, but also a time of fear and chaos, for man's most dangerous adversary is no longer the wilds and the fell things of the darkness, but himself...

To be a leader in such times is to be given glorious potential, but also enormous responsibility. Civilization is fragile, and your civilization the most vulnerable - your enemies many, potential or otherwise. Will you rise to greatness alongside your kinsmen, or will you falter and be forgotten? Come, and tell the tale of Imperium and Empire.

Across a thousand and ten thousand souls, the new sun rises - climbing flaring out of the west to signal the start of a nascent day. It clambers skyward from below horizons, under seas, behind great forest canopy, across baking deserts, and even from behind forbidding ranges of high mountains. The gaze of that flaming father, the source of life, takes in sprawling cities, ululating nomads, tall temples wreathed in banks of incense, and more besides. Mankind, the most blessed of his creations, walks in different lands, divided and each seeking his own vision.

But this is not bad. It was not so long that he feared for the world itself, that she was nearly shattered and broken. In their own ways mankind has flourished after this breaking, strong enough and clever in heart, allowing him to shape for himself the strange and battered remnants of the old world into something new and beautiful. Dangerous and beautiful, benign and beautiful, but new all the same. Now they are not merely tribes, or cities, but empires and nations in their own right, stretching from horizon to horizon...

Samplonia is a simple nation. She possesses a small population, a thousand Plebians and a thousand Patricans, and a humble city with only a Palace District and an outlying Mining District to her name. But lo! She has great ambitions! And so the year dawns for Samplonia.

Samplonia has a humble Tribal Despotism as her government, so she begins with one Authority. Her Palace District, however, grants her two more - more than she needs actually. First her rulers continue their jobs, as they have done since she rose from ignominy, consuming an Authority to activate. However, since they are Patricans, they recoup this Authority from their activation, leaving Samplonia still with an excess of three Authority.
With their activation, they operate the Palace District - it gains one Wealth, one Industry, and two Food naturally, but to this their activation adds an additional two Wealth, and one Authority, as well as reducing Discontent by 2.

We might write this as:
Authority: 1 (Despotism) + 2 (Palace) = 3
-1 Authority: Patrican (a) [+1 Authority]
Patrican (a) -> Palace District: [1 Wealth, 1 Industry, 2 Food] + (a) [1 Authority, 2 Wealth, -2 Discontent]

Then comes the Plebians. They also cost an Authority to activate, generating a Labor when they do so - and since there is only the Mining District left to activate, our choice is clear. The Plebians will activate this Mining District (built on Flatlands), gaining Native Copper Ore from a local Native Copper deposit as well as some stone for use in construction. This might be written as

-1 Authority: Plebian (a) [+1 Labor]
Plebian (a) -> Mining District: [1 Stone] + (a) [1 Stone, 1 Copper Ore]

These resources that have been produced should now be invested - in this case, we'll start building an Agricultural District, since our two starting Food from the Palace won't sustain a larger Population once we start growing! We have one Labor, three Wealth, and one Industry that we have produced, as well as two Stone and one Copper Ore. The Industry unfortunately won't be useful for the Agricultural District, but we can also start work on an Urban District, to house that Population once we grow. We'll invest the Labor in the Agricultural District, along with the Wealth, and that spare industry in the Urban District. This might be written as:

Income: 1 Labor, 3 Wealth, 1 Industry
Construction:
Agricultural District [1/8 Labor, 3/3 Wealth]
Urban District [0/12 Labor, 0/8 Wealth, 1/4 Industry, 0/4 Timber]

Finally we'll just check a few quick things - food and housing. Our Palace, in this case, produces enough Food and Housing [2 each] to handle our Population size of two, so that's all fine. No Discontent has been generated, and Samplonia is humming along nicely.

And that's the end of our turn! Some things to note - we are producing a surplus of stone and copper, which are valuable latter, but right now we need labor and timber. If we have a neighbor with a market who needs these goods and is willing to swap, we should consider trading with them, to move our priorities forward at speed.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 7:04 am

The Great Yu Dynasty

Construction of the Long Wall of Ten Thousand Li

The wall stretched for leagues across the borders of the Middle Kingdom, a magnificent stone barrier between the civilized world and the barbarians. Cai Guying a young soldier was stationed here watching any approach of western barbarians. The sheer scale of the wall was impressive the largest manmade structure in the world. But by the ancestors was this post boring! Nothing ever happened!

It had been centuries since the Middle Kingdom was invaded by barbarian armies. Other then a few bandits here and there, no major threats ever came. Cai Guying wondered what was the point of this gargantuan wall. But, and this is important, Cai Guying was just a simple soldier, he followed his orders without complaint and didn't think much, he could not possibly understand the important strategic value the Long Wall provided that went beyond defense.

And that was just fine. The common citizen nor soldier need not concern him or herself with the finer details, the previous dynasty in it's wisdom had recognized that the Middle Kingdom needed a first line of defense against barbarian invaders. Of course the Shao did not realize that the greatest threat came from within when a rebel leader would lead a army of peasants to Yuzhou one faithful day. The extreme burden and suffering caused by the construction of the Long Wall, was too great and the peasant army deposed the emperor and made the rebel leader the new emperor of a new dynasty having recognized him of gaining the Mandate.

The other provinces quickly recognized the new ruler and the Shao were no more for they had lost the favor of Heaven.

The Yu Dynasty had reunified the lands and restored harmony to the Middle Kingdom, but the Yongheng Emperor knew that finishing the Long Wall was paramount as well as ensuring the continued prosperity of the people...

TALES OF QINDAO

A jadegrass merchant lovingly rubbed his crop against his cheeks and kissed it as if it were his child, gently placing his joy into the market stall before his worst nightmare occurred.

"MY JADEGRASS!" The merchant yelled grabbing his head, breathing heavily as he watched in abject horror as a crowd of peasant children slammed into his market stall scattering the plump tubers onto the dirt road of Qindao.

The children laughed and hollered as they grabbed the green tubers off the ground and ran off. The shortest of them all Yi Tai, a scrawny looking Huang boy dressed in rags, dirty unkempt hair, eyes burning with ambition leading the gang of troublemakers.

"Get them! Off with their heads! One for each jadegrass!" The merchant yelled grabbing his hair and nearly ripping it off in despair as he called for the guard.

Yi Tai led the gang of children through a narrow alleyway before he was cutoff by the Qindao gaurd. His friends quickly abandoned him running the other way and the guards grabbed him by the collar of his rags. By this point the jadegrass merchant had caught up with him.

"It wasn't me! I swear!" Yi Tai yelled as the guards held him by the scruff of his neck.

"Oh cry me a river you brat! Don't listen to him he must pay for this injustice!" The jadegrass merchant yelled.

Zhan Yuhan, a gruff and strong looking man of high standing and leader of the guard stepped forward intrigued. "Tell me boy your side of the story and don't lie this time." He said grabbing his chin.

Yi Tai explained how he had convinced the other kids of a plan to steal from the jadegrass merchant, roping them into his scheme.

"Interesting so you had convinced all those children to follow you without question? You a scrawny little brat I am impressed." Zhan Yuhan said.

By this point the jadegrass merchant's jaw had hit the floor. "What!? Don't tell me your siding with this thief!"

Zhan Yuhan held up his hand "Silence, I'm willing to let this matter go, if you promise not to do this again, otherwise it's off to the mines with you" Zhan Yuhan said pointing to Yi Tai, who put on a fake grin and nodded eagerly. The guards released him and walked away to carry on with their duties while Zhan Yuhan remained. Yi Tai bowed low in Huang custom. "I apologize for my crime I promise to never ever get in trouble again sir." he said in a voice that almost sounded regretful.

"Hmm as for you merchant I believe this should cover the loss of your produce" Zhan Yuhan said handing him some silver.

The jadegrass merchant looked at the silver then at Yi Tai with an angry expression on his face." I got my eyes on you boy, kids these days undisciplined brats no respect for elders..." He said muttering to himself walking away in a huff.

Yi Tai sighed in relief and as he was about to run away, Zhan Yuhan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. "Hey I thought you were letting me go!" He said kicking his feet as he tried to break free.

"You do lack discipline but that will be corrected, your coming with me and trust me kid the training I'll put you through will make you wish I had sent you to the mines!" He said to the shocked expression forming on the boy's face.

His life's journey would just begin...

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 12:52 pm

Pillar of Varra
Varra, Great Plains of Saladon

The north stirs, as if a slumbering dragon wakes from its age long slumber. Breaking away from it’s long held isolation like a mirror shattering. No longer would Saladon wait for its day in the sun, no longer would it wait for it’s time to sing songs of it’s victories and it’s prestige. Like a raider, it will take it’s sun even if it came from the bloodied hands of those before them.

The streets are active with trade. Traders travel in and out of the city akin to that of a man’s veins. It filled Saladon with life never seen before. Bringing exotic laborers to build up the markets of Varra. They were escorted by the proud horse lords of Varra, who patrol the lands' great plains.

Varra’s spirit to face the world was once again renewed, and who better embodied the spirit than Luthor Saelon. A leader Saladon had not seen since the time of the great king Elspeth Saelon. While he may not agree with being aggressive in her policies, he shared that unwavering belief that Saladon was not to be submissive to any foreigner, and it will uphold its will before any other.

It was in his interest to create Varra’s dominance, not by a show of strength, but a show of wealth. Make his envious neighbors eager to join hands with him, rather than point blades at one another.

From the balcony of his grand palace he smiled at the populace below. Finally it will be my time to lead, he thought to himself. He clenched his fist with anticipation, as soon the council that Varra had will finally be dissolved, finally allowing his rule to be unimpeded by his subjects. It was his time to lead them to greatness just like his ancestor, Elspeth before him. It was time that the Saelon dynasty to make their mark on the world.

by **Pragia** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 12:58 pm

The Magisterium of the Eleskar

The violet banners flowing from the walls of the great ziggurat of Agor’a rippled gently in the spring breeze. It was a brisk morning, the city of mages bustling with the moving of men and materials, the white eyes on the banners seeing all beneath them, from the smoke rising quickly through the cool air from furances, to the trundling of Ralakar servitors hauling goods for magi artisans gathering material for their projects. The streets were paved in close-hewn stone, rendered flat and even by the great stonecutters of the city, granting a certain eerie uniformity to its grounds even as the architecture of the city varied.

In the century following the fall of Skras Tor and the great peace of the age, the Eleskar have seen significant advancement as well as shifts of their society. The ascendant providence that they pursue with such determination and stoicism has led to great stratification in their society. The City of Eles now was still a beating heart of knowledge, their mastery of the Arcane disputed only by the distant Corvidians, who speak of a people far advanced to the West, a notion the magi have largely dismissed. The non-magical underclass which once held up the backbone of the city’s economy was now replaced with men of stone, constructs fuelled by the brilliance of the magi and their imbuing of power into stone. These people did not disappear, though the City of Mages at the time possessed some of the most impressive educational capabilities in the world, not every pupil sought knowledge, and these people naturally found themselves migrating to the expanding frontier.

Ever since the great expedition at the close of the age and the beginning of the plagues, the great reclamation against barbarians who threatened Eleskar prosperity, and the peaceful era that followed, there has been a drive to discover more of the world. The Kelskar Scouts along with the long-debated Almakar Warriors defined the only true paths for those who could not wield the light of El’es. Even the so-called Kelskar, the City of Scouts, was mostly consisting of magi with a small class of non-magic users. Now the Kelskar found their freedom on the frontiers, be it on expeditions at sea from the comparably new city of Talkorar, City of Water, or on the frontier outposts of the far north, where exotic goods would be discovered and brought back to the heartlands of the Magisterium.

The Magisterium had continued to grow in complexity as the polity expanded and had to represent itself as more than just an organization within the magi cadres. Now it was truly stratified, with five and sometimes even six layers between the High Magisters and the newest of magi. Different organizations used different titles, from Artificers, Illuminators, Proctors, Judicators, and many others as the pursuit of standardization has brought some homogenization to society. It had envoys in other polities, now some daring to call themselves nations, as the Eleskar had declared with the creation of the Magisterium. Matters of law were debated in the Violet Chambers before the Magisters, and one who visited the city could almost taste the power in the air as enchantment and experimentation reigned.

Such was the way in the City of Magi, Such was the way of the Eleskar in this new age.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 2:46 pm

The Storm-Broken Sky

Heights of the Spire of the Sky, Celestial District, The City of Bells
Seventh of Redleaf, Year Four Hundred of the Reckoning

Across the void he stared, eyes streaming from the strain. Winds whipped at his ethereal form, threatening to sunder it - but the wards held firm, their enfolding comfort driving away the icy knives of the high clouds and their hungry mouths. His cheeks ached beneath the inscribed goggles that cast vision across uncounted leagues, and he stared down as if from the highest peak of the Mountains of Midnight at the tiny shapes moving below.

"Red skin. Plains. Northern?"

At his side he felt, more than heard, the scratching of quills and the muttering of his master and the other acolytes. Their presences were faint, infinitesimal at this great distance, but so attuned to his own as to be noticeable nonetheless. Even as an eagle sees the sparrow a thousand spans below, their presences touched the edge of his mind with subtle pressure, like notes of a far-off symphony.

Drawing himself in again, he muttered a litany of phrases, some doggerel created at his own whim, others venerable chant passed from master to apprentice back into the Black Years. Whether the magic responded to the phrases, or the intent behind them - that was a debate for the academics in the great halls. Their effect was verifiable regardless, and instant. His pace through the unknowable ether slowed, and he fell like a shooting star from the heights toward the men below.

"Definitely northerners. Corvus. The shoreline - to the south. Deep azure, warm, no ice. Traders out of Cavon. Their wains are at their backs. And strange beasts. Soldiers march with them too - sellswords, caravan guards, not a war party."

One of the presences thickened, becoming almost physical in hot red light - his master, Tarquin.

"That will do for today, Magus."

With relief Lothal felt the warded turn, tugging and twisting, and he surrendered his projection to their currents. They grew in urgency, and then speed, whipping him up and across the land below at breakneck pace. The stars and moon spun overhead, day becoming night, and then day again as the sun rode backwards in his dance.

Anon cold water was pressed to his lips, and his awareness returned from whatever gray void had claimed it in the return. They had spoken about that - about the temporal distortion, the sense of being a thousand places and yet none of them. He still welcomed the spring water, and smiled weakly as he sat up. The bearded and lined face of his master was nodding appreciatively, though he couldn't make out Tarquin's expression through the heavy woolen mask in which he was swaddled.

"Good enough for your first time. We'll call that here today, and turn the heights back over to the watchers. I have reservations at an eatery in Quay's Hand for five."

The small group of apprentices scrambled toward the lift, to begin the slow journey back to the city below, thoughts of piping hot stew and exotic spices filling their minds.

by **Aidannadia** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 6:53 pm

The sun rises over the sea, shining light on the capitol of the Divine Realm. The river Qadimahr churns and brings life to its people, who have already begun the work of the day. The fields are tended to, prayer is given for a bountiful harvest, and the cogs of the burgeoning state turn in lockstep with the ticking of time.

It had not been long since King Minus had united the tribes under his rule, ridding this land of its ancient oppressors, but the priesthood already saw fit to begin cementing its position in society. The establishment of an organized clergy, and the primacy of faith in society was among the first developments of this new world; though this might have been cause for concern for another, Minus understood his role. He had been a uniter, a warrior, and a leader during their people's time of crisis, but those days were now over. It was now necessary to reshape the culture of the river valley, to drive out the last remnants of necromantic sentiments in the hearts of the masses. While he and his progeny would remain appointed to their position as the defenders of the valley, the leaders of men in the field of combat, the clergy truly took hold of the governance of the nation.

Teachings of the new faith centered around the concept of Flow, that just as the river grew in the wet season and diminished in the dry, so too did life into death. The river brings life to the valley, and while animals consumed that life, they too return to the valley and the river washes away the memory of them as well.

With this in mind, the Realm saw fit to expand its dominion, and sent a scouting party to find new venues and resources for their growing civilization, following the river.

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Wed Sep 29, 2021 9:16 pm

Sun Rises Over the Volgati Steppe

"Arazbija!" She heard her brother's voice call from far away. She looked over her shoulder, seeing him bob up and down atop his horse. "Why are you so slow?!" She yelled back at him, the black mare below her throwing her back and forth in a ruthless trot. The morning sun sent golden rays across the sparse forest, casting beautiful lights dappled by the blowing leaves. Her brother slowly gained on her, until he just trailed behind the young girl.

"It's not my fault! Aisyt here nearly threw me off! You're the one who left me!" Arazbija rolled her eyes, and looked down at her own mare. She patted it's neck, though the beast seemed far more focused on going forward, than paying mind to her master's love. "It's only natural for a wild horse! Especially one so recently broken. Father shouldn't be far anyhow, I'm sure you can make it without getting thrown off again!"

"You'd think..." Her brother began, raising a hand to tuck his long strings of black hair behind his ear. His voice trailed off however, as they approached a clearing. "Ah. There it is!"

In front of the two, a small cluster of tents sat amidst the clearing. A handful of horses grazed on the tall grass, waving in the wind. There, their young father stood watcing them, turning his head just as they came into the prairie. "So nice of you two to join us!" He said with a slight frown. Arazbija and her brother both stopped their beasts beside the small herd, and ever-so-carefully stepped herself off. Her feet hit the ground with a shock, slightly off-balance. She winced, stopping for a moment to grit her teeth before she could reply to him. "It's not our fault, the market was far too busy! Nobody had arrowroot left! Well - so we thought... It's a long story. We have it. Just uh... not as much as we hoped. And we spent more than you told us to."

Her father let out a quiet groan at their story, but didn't push any farther. "Your mother will want to see you two. She was worried with how long it took. Said somebody had kidnapped you like what happened to your cousin. Always was one for hysterics..."

Her brother shook his head, though a prideful grin was on his face. "Mother shouldn't worry about us so! We're not like Ülgen or his brother, they spend their afternoons playing in the dirt and cutting grass for a living! We're different! We're tough, we live off the land! If anyone tried to take us, I'd cut their hands off them!"

Arazbija rolled her eyes. "As if." She chuckled. "You couldn't hurt a fly!"

"You're wrong! Uncle Runtiya been showing me how to wrestle, I could throw a man off a horse if I really wanted to!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Enough! You'll talk my ears off. Just when I need some quiet." Their father seemed to be on the end of his line, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Perhaps, Arazbija imagined, something had happened. Yet she would save the questions for another time. "Go to your mother and eat dinner. Then you two can bicker for her to listen to."

Such went the life of those too stubborn to settle.

by **The Knights of Azorea** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 5:41 am

Karun Velathrim
The Sacred Hill of the Suvae

The Suvae had seen much. Centuries had passed since it's cold white marble had first been carved. When fingers of dawn had first witnessed the eldest shrines of it's base. It had risen, with the first league covering it from peak to base in shrines, temples and vaunted halls. It had hosted augurs, auspices, the sacred maphron and half a thousand kinds of priest. For decades prayers had rung and risen through it, curling around the smoothed marble and rising like smoke from hidden chimneys. Much had changed, since those days of the First League. During the Aristomachoi, the civil wars of the patricians, the temples had been looted. Stone had been cut away to rebuild the walls, cellar-shrines had been turned to treasuries and secure bulwarks. The statues of the gods had been carried away to sister-cities, carried back, smashed and reforged.

The magnificence of the Suvae had been altered forever - the silver age of old Velathri had passed, through fire, unto iron. Much of the hill was now filled in with sacred rubble. Only three structures remained upon it's top - the one temple complex of the new League. The first, and eldest, was the temple where the archons had once been anointed. Their laurel crowns now sat upon the head of a great, iron statue - the figure of the tyrannicide himself. Once a man, his body broken upon the rocks below, his iron form made quite a statue. It was carved in the moment of his death - a crumpled body shattered at vicious angles over protrusions of marble. A figure that would be pathetic, if not for it's great face, staring upward, through a vault in the roof, it's eyes of black glass bright, it's lips of prase curled up in triumph. The Hall of the Tyrannicide played host to the city's treasury, and to the most sacred rites of anointment, where the generals sat in vigil at their election.

Slightly down-hill from the Tyrannicide's monument sat the Temple of the Many, where the hundred hundred gods of old Velathri had been taken and set to rest. The structure bore no windows - no skylights, and no torches were permitted within. All was lit by a flame lit upon the bluemoss. Only one hall, filled with statues uncounted. Ancient ones of wood, bent and strange, besides proud images of burnished iron now left in darkness. None spoke within the temple, and none but the sacred light could be lit. The old gods had suffered much, and had tasted many indignities in the Aristomachoi - it was meet that they should rest - a quiet and a dreamless sleep.

Lower than the quiet of the dead was the vigour of the living. The last temple-hall upon the Suvae was the Atheumicon, the gathering place of Velathri's Free Sons. The temple itself was a strange structure - more a rostrum of raised marble, a platform with carved niches on each side bearing one face for each of the city's demes, to which all men belonged. Around it, an area of ground was marked by short iron pillars. Within the ring, the fighting men of Velathri gathered in the Assembly. Here the generals were elected each year from among the people, here the officers were chosen and the ordering of the city decided. Shouting, jostling, bellowing and roaring all rang out between the iron pillars, but no weapon could be drawn, and no true contention of arms was permitted. Men had been killed for throwing a punch in this place where all men ought be as brothers.

As the stars shone above the city, and shouts drifted on the wind from the Atheumicon, men and women took their ease in the autumn eve. Some feasted on buffalo and pickled taro, some made sport of climbing like mountain goats over the city's hills, many took to the gymnasia to wrestle or exercise themselves. The city below was as changed as the Suvae above, but the people still loved, fought and feasted as ever they had. There was much to be done, in the reforged city, but for the moment the people rested, and recovered from the long civil war.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 7:14 am

IC Post is Coming Soon

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 10:46 am

The Land of Penithel

Excerpt from 'History of Penithel - Second Kingdom Era' by Kallean Drummond.

The definitive transition from the Late First Kingdom Era to the Early Second Kingdom Era is the rise of the Vanevihd Dynasty to the throne in Avnelin and it's first monarch King Hymlac II. During the early times of the Second Kingdom, the Kingdom of Penithel once more became more inward-looking, a trend that had seemingly grown stronger since the Pennethelli Kings of the late First Kingdom, after for some time participating in the Coalition Wars against the Hesukar seemingly refused to send their warriors to participate in the final battle and the subsequent sacking of the Hesukari capital. Instead, this new wave of isolationism saw an increasing development of settlement along the river, eventually reaching the north-eastern riverbend where some scholars believe that the ancestors of the Pennethelli actually originated. As the waterways around the mouth of the river were inhabited by the large carnivorous serpents called "shadow serpents" by the ancient Pennethelli, known as the silver-bellied water serpent today, the animals posed a large threat to the boats moving upriver and riverside settlements alike. It was not until the reign of King Reinaed I that a large effort was undertaken to curb the serpent problem, which was actually done by taming the mighty riverine predators...

The city of Avnelin

Population: 4000 / 2000 Plebeians | 1000 Patricians
Troops: Warrior Army [Iron Armor / Iron Weapons / Bows]

Districts:
Palace / Garrison - Grand Wall | Worked by: Patrician | Passive Income: 1 Wealth - 1 Industry - 2 Food - 2 Housing - 1 Trade Value - 2 Authority. | Active Income: 1 Authority - 2 Wealth / -2 Discontent | 5 Authority from Monarchy Govt
Urban | Worked by: Plebian | Passive Income: 3 Housing | Active Income: 1 Wealth - 1 Housing / -2 Discontent.
Forge | Worked by: Plebian | Passive Income: 2 Wealth - 1 Industry | Active Income: 1 Wealth - 1 Industry
Fishing Docks | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 2 Food |
Agriculture | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 3 Food |
Agriculture | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 3 Food |
Agriculture | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 3 Food |
Plantation | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 1 Food - 1 Wealth |
Mining | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 1 Stone |

Construction:
Noble Estates: Labor 2/5 - Wealth 4/4 - Industry 3/3
University District: Labor 0/8 - 10/10 Wealth - 0/6 Industry

Total Income: 2 Labor - 7 Wealth - 3 Industry - 14 Food - 1 Stone - 6 Housing - 4 Trade Value - 9 Authority,
Total Expenses: 5 Food - 5 Housing - 2 Labor - 14 Wealth - 3 Industry - 3 Authority
Stability: -4 Discontent
Total End Status: 23 Wealth - 7 Timber - 4 Stone - 4 Hide - 3 Meteoric Iron - 6 Copper - 1 Clay

The city of Sardavin

Population: 3000 / 1000 Plebeians | 1000 Patricians
Troops: Warrior Army

Districts:
Palace / Garrison - Fitted Stone Wall | Worked by: Patrician | Passive Income: 1 Wealth - 1 Industry - 2 Food - 2 Housing - 1 Trade Value - 2 Authority. | Active Income: 1 Authority - 2 Wealth / -2 Discontent
Agriculture | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 3 Food |
Agriculture | Worked by: N/A | Passive Income: 3 Food |
Mining | Worked by: Plebeian | Passive Income: 1 Stone | Active Income: 1 Stone - 1 Meteoric Iron

Construction:
Noble Estates: Labor 0/5 - Wealth 3/4 - Industry 0/3
Urban District: Labor 1/12 - 0/8 Wealth - 1/4 Industry - 0/4 Timber

Total Income: 1 Labor - 3 Wealth - 1 Industry - 6 Food - 2 Stone - 1 Meteoric Iron - 2 Housing - 1 Trade Value - 4 Authority / -2 Discontent,
Total Expenses: 4 Food - 4 Housing - 1 Labor - 3 Wealth - 1 Industry - 2 Authority - 2 Discontent
Stability: 0 Discontent
Total End Status: 6 Meteoric Iron - 3 Stone

by **The Hierophancy** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 12:10 pm

The Other Slope
Mist hung low all about - the hill-summit was made an island, the peaks of fir lonely and scattered. Behind, the path rose from the fog - beyond it was the Valley, home. In that hazy time, the blue hour when the world's all cool greys, the men and women below would be waking up, lighting ovens and open fires, preparing for another lazy, static day of hard, hard work.

Here, at the waystone, the men - no women, not this time - were already up. They sat, scattered about and wrapped in scratchy hemp blankets. By silent consensus, they had chosen to watch the dawn break in darkness, so they ate the last nights venison cold. Before them, there was no path - the hill descended into the mist unmarked and wild. That sea of clouds looked the same as the one covering the Valley, but 'twas all the more exciting for it. Whereas all shrouded to the young Finders' backs was familiarity, they knew that what the fog hid beyond that other slope was something new - at least, new to them.

The sun peaked over some rise out of sight, and dawn's light fell on the mountains which towered far, far away, rising up over that unknown sea. Snow glittered atop Sinshan, from which the River springs. Tachas, who was also Split Reed, only the year before had cast aside the badge of Bay Laurel and come in from the Coast. Following the Gull's Path to the cliffs by the sea and to the great salt lagoons below them, in briny waters and deep mud he had received his second name, and returning to his tiny village among the pines, joined the Finders Lodge. He sang their songs and swore their oaths, took up their cloak and painted his face. Ochre, woad and ash, thick and itchy about the eye. He had never seen light fall upon the mountains.

"My words," he said. It is the standard singing-prayer of thanks, pared down to it's bare minimum, made nearly reflexive, but his fellows repeated it - simplicity felt appropriate, here on the brink. After a moment of silence, Choosewell, an old man in this crowd at nearing-forty, stood up. He brushed crumbs of graincake off his jerkin and coughed. He had been chosen as Chief for this expedition, in the style of the Warrior Lodge. When he coughed, men listened.

"The sun rises, and the mist will soon burn away. We've a map to draw, and a lot of ground to cover." Black eyes narrowed, he stood, thinking and chewing - a heartbeat of hesitation. "Pack your things and prepare to leave, but keep an eye towards the mountains - a view from above will help, later."

The group lurched into motion. Blankets were stowed away, venison re-wrapped, shoes re-stuffed, obsidian knives re-sheathed. As the fog beyond the Valley began to clear, they set off scrabbling towards it, down the other slope.

by **The Unraveled Cycle** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 2:51 pm

THE PROMETHEAN REPUBLIC

Prologue:

Uneasy Beginnings

It has been centuries since the fall of the Qunharyan civilization; and several years since the Senate and People of Promethea decided to ratify the Servitium Necessarius that allowed slavery to make it's comeback as an aged economical pillar to a newly arising nation. As of now, slaves are not yet a prominent-enough force to impact the Promethean economy in any way. But with the Servitium Necessarius in play, it is only a matter of time before their presence will be felt all over the Republic...along with the ramifications.

Decades have passed since the patrician Senators consolidated all the democratic powers of the Republic into their hands. But their sole dominion over it has been recently challenged by an unlikely champion of the common people. Standing as the shield of Promethea, from within and without, is Consul Gnaeus Agrippa. An aging but experienced pro-Republican senator, whose father and grandfather were generals, famed for leading the last battles against remnants of the hated Qun and exterminating what's left of their ancient enemy from the face of the world. Despite being a patrician himself, Agrippa has the love of the plebeians and the military. Not only for his heroic lineage, but also for his stance on reforms that favor bequeathing power back to the people.

Hence, Agrippa has earned the ire of his noble peers, who view him as a traitor to their class and accuse his political motives to be that of an impending tyrant. With the military and the mob backing him however, the patricians are hesitant to do more than complain, debate and challenge his every move via the senate floor. Blindsided by their many agendas, hubris and sense of self-entitlement, the leaders of The Promethean Republic remain ignorant of the real dangers arising from within the state. Dangers in the form of cunning men like Marcus Maximus, who harbor true imperialistic designs. He is not alone in his endeavors, for the mysterious Cult of R'haela lends their support from within the shadows. They are a faction of zealous priestesses, who seek to bring about the physical incarnation of Solus onto the mortal plane and establish a theocratic empire. One ruled eternally by a line of Sun God-Emperors.

It is a divine but blood-stained calling that even the ancient Pharaohs of Qunharya failed to answer. But the Qun are all dead now and their successors may yet prove to be more fortunate. Will the Republic rise to become the greatest institution of democratic liberty, or fall and give birth to the greatest empire of tyrannical supremacy.

Only the Gods know the future.

...or do they?

Chapter 1

CICERO

Promethea - The Eternal City
The Curia Septima - Senate House of The Promethean Senate

"-and so, for the purpose of protecting the interests of the state as well as furthering the glory of the Republic, I propose that the Senate sanction an expedition to the east. By following the same river that has provided much fruit and bounty to Promethea for many generations and more to come...I...I believe that this expedition will prove to be most valuable and worthy of the time and resources spent to make it happen. As my grandmother always said to me as a child; the early bird gets the worm, and she is never wrong. Ah, that very advice of hers has led me to proudly don these very sacred robes of political office that you now see. Why, when I was only 10 year old, I remember-..."

Senator Junius Cassius Cicero, sighed in obvious relief when he saw Consul Agrippa raise a weary hand to interrupt the speaking senator. As usual, Senator Fabius Manius was dreadfully long-winded. The old man obviously knew his points for proposals, but lacked the concentration and the vigor to deliver them without boring his listeners to tears. Once, Manius even managed to pull the impossible feat of putting an entire crowd of rowdy plebeians to sleep in the Forum Prometheus.

Cicero quickly nudged his softly-snoring friend and colleague, Otho Lepidus, awake, as Gnaeus Agrippa stood to address the assembled senators from ontop the podium of his curule seat. Next to Consul Agrippa sat the younger Consul Marcus Maximus; as usual with a smile and a glimmer of amusement written all over his face, like as if the scene unfolding before him is part of a theatre act. Of all the arrogant and self-important politicians to exist in The Republic, Cicero disliked Maximus the most. This dislike of his is stamped from one personal and simple conclusion.

He smiled too much.

To Cicero, anybody who can smile that much without any given cause or logical reason, is one undeserving of any trust. You have to be a real dimwit to not speculate or even wonder about the origins of such confidence in a man as cunning and conniving as Marcus Maximus.

"Mmm?" mumbled the gray-haired, chubby and dull-looking Senator Lepidus, as he roused from slumber, rubbed his eyes and blinked at his best friend drowsily. "Is the old fart finally finished?"

Otho merely received a quick shushing from Cicero, whose attention was focused on Consul Agrippa's address.

"The good senator has brought up a very profitable proposal," began Gnaeus Agrippa, bringing the full strength of his deep voice to bear and making drowsy senators like Lepidus, perk up immediately with alert interest. "Long has The Republic wallowed in isolation; blind to the surroundings of it's prosperity and to the presence of unknown neighbors, who could easily threaten that very prosperity or contribute to it, if the Gods be willing."

Looking around and slowly boring his eyes into each and every member of the senatorial congress, the consul continued firmly. "Thus, I whole-heartedly support this endeavor and give it the consul's blessing. I trust that all of you will have no objections." With that, Agrippa cast a brief but sharp look at his fellow consul, as if expecting him to say otherwise. Marcus merely shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement, all the while still looking amused. As the elected representative of the Optimates; the patrician faction dedicated to the continued absolute authority of the Senate, Consul Maximus had always stood in the way of any legislation that favored the plebeian Assemblies or generally supported the growing influence of the Fundamentalists; the opposing faction led by Gnaeus Agrippa, who favored a return to the original constitution of the Republic.

As the expedition would serve to benefit all, Marcux Maximus simply saw no reason to oppose it.

Before Consul Agrippa sat down however, Plinius Ovidius Cato, one of the oldest senators in Promethea, stood up and raised his hand to motion a proposal. Seeing him, Cicero immediately groaned, while a ripple of unease swept through the entire conclave. He and the other senators knew very well what the proposal was going to be about and they also knew that it was going to be utterly pointless as well as a big waste of everybody's time. Cato was a staunch Fundamentalist and a vocal speaker against the current imbalance of power occurring within the Republic. Like Gnaeus Agrippa, Cato sought to return Promethea to the days of their Founding Fathers; when the common Assemblies held enough authority to check the power of the Consuls and the Senate, as was their intended purpose. Nowadays, the Assemblies acted like an extension of the Senate branch that sought to keep the sovereignty of the nobility rather than put forward the needs of their people. It was this imbalance and outrageous breach of legal protocol that irked Cato greatly.

Unlike Fabius Manius, Cato was a very loud, passionate and skilled orator who could instigate a mob to action if he tried hard enough. This upcoming proposal of his, however, was on the topic of slavery and focused on the repeal of the Servitium Necessarius or Necessary Servitude. The latter was the final straw that brought Cato to join the Fundamentalist faction as it's greatest and most vocal supporter.

"Do something before we all die here of starvation and old age," whispered Otho anxiously to his best friend. The both of them remembered all too well the last time the repeal was proposed. The debate between the Optimates and the Fundamentalists lasted almost an entire day, with both sides arguing the pros and cons of slavery against the moralities of letting such a system remain. It only ended when the Moderates, as usual, led by Cicero himself, sided with the Optimates and put an end to the debate that had caused everybody their lunch and dinner. Personally, Cicero wasn't too keen on the idea of slavery, but he disliked the growing power of Gnaeus Agrippa and his Fundamentalist faction. Despite Agrippa's solid reputation for Republicanism and democratic ideology, Cicero distrusted anyone who could easily use the military to shift the balance of power. The Optimates may be unlawfully rich, but armed and armored soldiers are a much more fearful prospect then a bunch of old men loaded with money bags. Especially if said soldiers were garrisoned in the same city as you.

Standing up immediately, Cicero quickly intervened before Cato could speak.

"Sorry, friend Cato," spoke Cicero apologetically, whilst the stern-faced and wrinkled senator glowered at him furiously for the impudent interruption. "I think we all know what you are about to propose, and I can safely say in the stead of all present here, that we would rather not have such a garrulous proposal brought up again. Especially since, by now, we all know what the end result will be."

"Garrulous you say?" retorted Cato in utter disbelief at what he was hearing. His ears began to turn red as he continued heatedly, "You talk as if this proposal is like women's gossip. Full of nothing but the trivialities of the day. It may be trivial to you, Junius Cassius Cicero. But this proposal concerns the very soul of the Republic. A soul whose sanctity has been violated and degraded under the eyes of the Gods! Through none other then the blasphemous act of bloody slavery!"

At this passionate outburst of Cato's, Cicero sighed deeply and was about to resign himself to another long and exhaustive debate when an unlikely ally came to the rescue.

"Hold it there Cato," spoke Consul Maximus, interrupting the fierce elderly senator once more. His smiled had disappeared and his amused expression had somewhat dimmed at having to deal with this old issue again. "I agree with Cicero. Bringing up the repeal of the Servitium Necessarius will only just waste the Senate's valuable time again. Instead, we should look to other more newer proposals that we can all agree upon before ending the session."

This was an opportunity to quickly move on from the matter at hand and Cicero took it immediately.

"Exactly! I myself have two proposals I wish to bring forth to my venerable colleagues and esteemed consuls....If I may, of course."

Cato looked like as if he was about to burst a vein from his temple, but a headshake from Agrippa made him relent the floor to Cicero and the enraged senator, instead, sat back down, grumbling and cursing under his breath. Cicero straightened his back further and continued his propositions.

"With the recent discovery of the 'Metal of the Gods', I think it would be a direct offence to our divine benefactors if we do not put their heavenly gift to good use. Thus, a grand forge should be built. Large enough to smelt such sacred metal and of course....first blessed by the pontifex and the priests from the temples of Solus, Vaelor and perhaps even the priestesses of R'haela, should they be willing. It will be costly of course, but I believe the benefits to be most rewarding. Especially in the arming and armoring of our legionnaires."

At this, Cicero carefully eyed Gnaeus Agrippa, looking to see for signs of his approval. That was the true purpose of this particular proposal. To satisfy the military-backed consul which would then mean the appeasement of the Fundamentalists. Agrippa's stoic and hardened expression betrayed no such satisfaction, but Cicero somehow knew he approved.

"Next, I would like to propose the construction and setting up of an official school. One that will be sponsored directly by us, the state, and funded by the senate treasury." This time, Cicero directed his address more towards the enclave of Optimates assembled to his left. "Most of our young ones are being tutored in their respective homes. However, I believe sending them to a single institution with a centralized education system will be even more beneficial. It'll not only instill in them the principles of our great republic, but also teach them skills that they would almost never learn whilst studying at home."

To his right, Cato snorted out loud in contempt.

"Principles he says," muttered the aged senator cynically, but Cicero simply ignored him and continued.

"My friends and colleagues! The future of our Eternal City, lies in the hands of our sons and daughters. We must give them the education they deserve, lest their failures bring shame, dishonor and even ruin upon this great establishment of our forefathers. Join me in preserving and furthering the glory of the Republic! For Promethea Invicta!"

Cato gave another snort and made another derisive comment, but they were all drowned out by the loud clamor of approval from his peers. Cicero simply nodded his head in gratitude for their acknowledgement and sat back down. With no verbal objections to his proposals, they were unanimously endorsed and ratified to proceed by the consuls. The matter of organizing as well as creating a new education system that fit the doctrines and conventions of the Republic, lay in the hands of Cicero himself, who was an able and learned scholar. As for the eastern expedition, Centurion Tiberius Caesar, a young protege of Gnaeus Agrippa, was selected to lead it.

Thus ended, the first Senatorial session of the new era.

Promethea - Capital City | Government - Republic | Civic Point = 1

Palace District (Flatland):
[Active] 1,000 Patricians gathered at Palace, debating and resolving state-related issues of The Republic (+1 Authority, +2 Wealth. -2 Discontent, + 1 Patrician Authority) | [Passive] Palace District = +1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, 2 Housing, +2 Authority | [Additional Passive] Soldiers garrisoned and keeping the peace within the city (+1 Authority)

Free Tech Roll - Construction

Artisan District (Flatland):
[Active] 1,000 Citizens filling the Artisan district and shaping stone into products of value (+2 Wealth, +1 Industry, + 1 Citizen Wealth, -1 Stone) | [Passive] Artisan District = +1 Wealth

Mining District (Hills):
[Active] 1,000 Plebeians laboring in the Mines to further the glory of Promethea (+2 Stone. +1 Meteoric Iron +1 Plebeian Labor) | [Passive] Mining District = +1 Stone

Agricultural District (Riverlands):
[Active] 1,000 Plebeians laboring in the Fields to sustain the glory of Promethea (+3 Food. +1 Timber. +1 Trade Value, +1 Plebeian Labor) | [Passive] Agricultural District = +3 Food

Agricultural District (Riverlands):
[Passive] Agricultural District = +3 Food

Market District (Coast):
[Passive] Market District = +1 Wealth, +1 Trade Value

Urban District (Flatland):
[Passive] Urban Houses = +3 Housing

Barracks District (Flatland):
[Passive] Barracks = +1 Army Capacity

Infrastructure:
[Passive] Road Network - +2 Trade Value, +2 Stone

Construction:
[In Progress] University District (Flatland) - 2/8 Labor, 10/10 Wealth, 2/6 Industry
[In Progress] Forge District (Flatland) - 0/6 Labor, 6/6 Wealth, 0/8 Industry

Exploration:
An expedition has embarked to the arid east, hugging the Promethys river and proceeding towards the fertile river vale from whence it flows from. - 10 Wealth, -1 Authority

Sum Total = 0 Authority (+5 from Districts, Garrison and Active Pop, -5 for Activations), 12 Wealth (+8 from Districts and Active Pop, -16 for Construction, -10 for Exploration), 11 Timber (+1 from Agriculture), 14 Stone (+ 3 Mining, +2 from Road Network, -1 from Artisan), 5 Native Copper, 1 Meteoric Iron (+1 from Mining), 2 Food (+8 from Agriculture and Palace, -6 from Population), 5 Housing (+3 Urban, +2 Palace), 1 Army Capacity (+1 Barracks), 4 Trade Value (+2 from Districts, +2 from Road Network), 1 Civic (+1 due to Governance tech), 0 Discontent (+1 from lack of Housing, - 2 from Active Palace)

Turn 1 Remaining Values = 0 Authority, 12 Wealth, 11 Timber, 14 Stone, 5 Native Copper, 1 Meteoric Iron, 2 Food, 5 Housing, 4 Trade Value, 1 Army Capacity, 1 Civic, 0 Discontent
Turn 1 Remaining Tiles = 6 Riverlands, 3 Coast, 0 Flatlands, 1 Hills

by **Olthenia** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 3:08 pm

The Ustarran daraa or boubou, a long and loose gown, and tagelmusts, a cloth veil that is used as a turban, are two key clothing staples for many of the traditionally nomadic people of the Ustarran desert. The garments' origins can be traced back hundreds of years, as far as the 2nd and 3rd Centuries, to the early times of the trans-Ustarran trade between the Corvidian hills and the plains north of the Spine. And while some locals will say the clothing symbolises shyness and modesty, most agree that its basic function is to protect against the sun, as well as the frequent sandstorms of the region. Maester Torgrym records in his treatise The Ustarran Desert and Her People that: "The style and shape of our daraa not only allows the right airflow in these difficult environments, but also helps Ustarran locals to conserve body water in the middle of the desert." Today, with more people settling in larger settlements outside of the traditional Khortuun homelands in the Great Rift valley, and fashion styles trending towards those from other environs, the attire most Khortuun women and men once wore to traverse the hot desert has largely become a relic from the past. Yet, in Sorrowfree, where most folk wear the daraa and tagelmusts in captivating shades of blue, it is still alive – and it looks as though it will stay here to stay for some time yet.

During the trans-Ustarran trade era, new commerce hubs sprang up on the outskirts of the desert, and various ethnic groups traded in-demand items across the sandy wastes such as spices, minerals, animals and textiles. Over the centuries, this intense commercial activity brought many different groups into the Ustar – including Khortuun from the Great Rift, Corvidian merchants from the southern hills and Machakan tradesmen from the far east. As members of these different groups settled along the edges of the so-called ‘White Waste’, the Khortuun faith and language prevailed, but new cultural traditions emerged. Architectural designs evolved, books from around the Ustarran desert made their way into local libraries, and fashion trends from both north and south merged to make a new style in the form of the long, flowing, wide-sleeved tunic. Like other tunic-style clothing such as the kimono from The Yue or the kaftan originating in ancient Pennithel, the daraa has found a place in fashion history. Eventually, populations from all social statuses wore daraas, but colours depended on one's station in life. Wealthy merchants wore chalk-white daraas and tagelmusts, as they could afford to clean their clothes every day, while enslaved people would typically wear black, as they often worked in unclean environments and had to wear the same clothing repeatedly. With the lack of natural colourful dyes around the Ustar, coloured daraas appeared only after the Haalpulaar – a people whose exact origins have since been lost to the sands of time - started trading natural indigo dye, and indigo-dyeing techniques in turn became popular. These dark blue-coloured daraas were perfect for people who couldn't afford white daraas, but who also did not wish to wear black ones.

While the Haalpulaar might have established the indigo daraas, it was the Khortuun people who adopted and popularised the fashion, and are considered the "blue women of the Ustar" – a name they are thought to have gained in light of the colour of their clothing rubbed off onto their skin while being under the hot sun. According to Maester Foschar, researcher of Ustarran studies at the University of Fieldhome, the influence of the Haalpulaar could have led to big changes for Khortuun fashion. "Khortuun people used to wear leather clothes, and at some point, they switched to the blue fabrics they are mostly known for today." The central market in the Khortuun capital, Sorrowfree, is truly a blue world. Many sellers offer only blue clothing, and at least one out of every four women are said to wear some shade of a blue daraa. In their desert land the blue colour extends beyond clothing, and can be found in blankets and stall umbrellas, but also in architectural elements such as doors, ceilings and fences. Although the colour blue represents the sky and divinity in the Mother-Moon, local Khortuun have a more practical reason to use it: it's the perfect colour for protection from the sun.

TECH: Wise minds in Sorrowfree, safely ensconced at the Prophet's Retreat - and Three-Brothers and Kura Kumbe also - busy themselves with the study of a novelty from distant Corvus; the doctrine of the Living State.

CULTURE: 3 Culture / 8 Pops = <1

AUTHORITY:
Income: 5 in Sorrowfree, 3 in Three-Brothers, 3 in Kura Kumbe = 11
Expenditure: 5 + 1 + 1 = 7

DISCONTENT:
Sorrowfree: 0 Discontent / 6 Pops = Life is good!
Three-Brothers-Town: 0 Discontent / 1 Pop = Life is good!
Kura Kumbe: 0 Discontent / 1 Pop = Life is good!

by **New Antarcticania** » Thu Sep 30, 2021 5:16 pm

The great crusade of Draesea
the sun rises on a new empire.

Year 1 of the Draesean calendar
"It is every loyal citizen's duty to increase the size of the crusade, only then can we face the unwashed infidels at our gates!"
- Draesean preacher

Strength, honor, and devotion. These are the virtues that everyone in draesea sought for. But today, Draesea has to learn an art that is almost unheard of in the city-state. The art Diplomacy, for today, The deputy of the eternal lord himself is be dispatched to a nearby civilization, Perhaps they may get something out of it, perhaps the crusade will have it's first target. Either way, there is only one way to find out.

As Moyses Draesea finishes his final prayer, he exits his personal residence, barking out a order as he strikes down the stone steps.
"ARMIES, WITH ME!"
"AYE!"
The army of warriors, Clad in Armor and armed with the Crusade's finest weapons. Begins to follow as their leader exits the palace gates.

They March west, towards the great flourish.

Back at the Draesan capital, an undertaking as big as the State's ambitions is underway. The rapid construction of a brand new district for prayer. Such a district will promote the supreme draesean virtues, and satisfy the Populace's Religious needs. However, the City-state doesnt have nearly enough hands to complete this project any time soon. Funding wasnt a problem, Before his departure- Moyses Draesea invested a impressively high amount of wealth into the construction of the temples. putting that wealth to good use was the problem...
Perhaps that was one of the issues he wished to fix on his expedition to neighboring lands.

Meanwhile, the state's brightest minds are working around the clock to develop new technologies. While the fruits of their labor are unpredictable at best, It is always good to gain a advantage over their Heretical enemies. At the end, only the Eternal lord may know of what wonders they may stumble upon...

Draesa
Population

Buildings/districts

Production/consumption

Construction

Misc.
Tech

Other actions

by **The Unraveled Cycle** » Fri Oct 01, 2021 9:04 am

R'haela

Goddess of Fire, Life & Passion

From the writings of Ahmet Mamurra, author of The Burning Pantheon

"An early depiction of a Red Priestess from The Cult of R'haela"

The Red Goddess, The Firstborn, The Everfaithful, Life Giver, Guardian of The Light, Herald of The Sun, Lady of Flame & Passion.

These are the many names of R'haela Illuminae, the eldest child of Hespis Nirvana and Solus-Horakhty, as well as the daughter-wife of the latter. It was through R'haela that Solus wrought the Flame of Creation and breathed life into the rest of the other Promethean Gods. Likewise, the mortal races of the world were given life in the same manner. R'haela is also responsible for bringing civilization into the world by teaching the first men the art of fire-making. All the gods and goddesses are jealous of the many favors their divine Father has bestowed upon her. Even Hespis, her own mother, despises her for the forbidden love shared between her divine husband and His firstborn.

To R'haela, it has always been her and her Father against the rest of the world. She exists for nothing else other than to be the bearer of His splendor, the recipient of His fiery affection and the conduit through which His celestial brilliance can spread throughout all of existence. So entwined is their connection that to worship R'haela is to also worship Solus. On the mortal plane, the faith of the Red Goddess is preached and taught by red-robed servants of only the female gender. R'haela demands that only the most beautiful and nubile of maidens attend to her shrines, temples and faithful. She lavishes much attention, especially on any young newly-inducted virgin who have much to offer but nothing to lose.

All females, regardless of race, background and class, are welcomed into the service of R'haela. Once novitiates have completed their training, prophetic glyphic symbols will be permanently etched along their spinal column, which are only decipherable to the High Priestess who inducted them. They will only be read upon death and serve to reveal the true nature, purpose & deeds of the individual bearing the marks. Many state cults in Promethea practice sacred prostitution. But it is the prostitutes of the Red Temple that are notorious for their impassioned skills and lascivious show of dedication to their bed partners, rivalling even that of the temple prostitutes of Avanescence; the Goddess of Love & Beauty.

The Cult of R'haela is the last and only accepted state cult in the Republic to still practice ritualistic human sacrifices. This fact, combined with the incestual and promiscuous nature of her embodiment, makes R'haela one of the least popular deities amongst the patrician families, who view her worship as a societal taboo unfit for their rank and noble stature. The well-bred and educated patrician women are more partial towards the worship of either Hespis or Avanescence. As a result, shrines and temples dedicated to the Goddess of Fertility and the Goddess of Love, tend to overshadow those of the Red Goddess, whose own sacred sites of worship can be counted on only one hand. Despite their rarity and lack of support from the nobles, The Cult of R'haela has amassed quite a significant number of devotees amongst the plebeian masses, who will never fail to find comfort in the warm glow of a red fire.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Fri Oct 01, 2021 11:24 am

"We need workers, Mister Speaker!"

The accusing shout of the Council's latest visitor silenced the diplomatic murmurings across the Risen Seats. Great podiums of granite rose from the stone floor of the hall, emplaced so seamlessly that they seemed to have grown from the very earth. Archons of all four Republican Provinces sat atop them, leaning over to mutter to their closest neighbor or passing a folded letter to one of the countless porters that ran to and fro. Eighty such thrones, all equal in size, encircled the grand stage at the center - eight and seventy pairs of eyes (the remaining two attending to affairs in their home provinces) observed the figure before them.

"No need to shout, Madam Saltwither, the Council can hear you."

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council, our four provinces are facing a labor shortage on a scale of which we have never seen. The proposal currently being distributed to you all would solve that issue. Through this 'corvée', this national funding of labor, men of all stations will put forward their effort to raising the walls and buildings of our great Republic. All will work - and all will be compensated for their labor. Some may scoff at doing the work of a 'laboring man', but we have no room for such divisions. All of us are children of the River - all of us are one."

As the woman paused to take a breath, a smattering of applause echoed across the huge audience chamber. Porters were handing sheafs of parchment to every Archon in attendance - the proposal in question - and quickly the sounds of flipping sheets filled the room.

"Thank you, Madam. Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to put forward an unopposed motion to enter debate on this proposal after the midday recess, after the Cultural Subsidies Program and the Motion for Enhanced Military Spending. Any opposed, say 'aye'."

"None speak- the motion is passed."

The State of the Republic:
Government Type, Republic: 8 Authority (4 Settlements *2)
Tech Rolls: 4 (1 * 4 Palaces)
Copying Standardized Texts from Corvus [4/10]
Free Civic Points: 2
Adopting Tier 2 Government: Enlightened Republic
Adopting Civic: National Corvée

Net authority change: -1
Remaining: 7

Net authority change: +1
Remaining: 8

Net authority change: +1
Remaining: 9

Net authority change: +1
Remaining: 10

Culture: 1/8

by **Lazarian** » Fri Oct 01, 2021 1:38 pm

Corvus

As the world slowly rolls by, Verran Yamdigger reclines and crosses his legs, idly holding the reins in his hands. The camels snort and spit as they tread down the trailing path, and the crates rattle in the back, the goods within sloshing this way and that. Beside him, his dog wags its tail excitedly, tongue flapping in the wind.

It is a fine thing to own a cart. Though he is but a simple farmer of yam and grain, he can afford such a luxury. Sponsored, of course, by his contract to the Grandhammer family, but nevertheless. It was he who won the bid to supply the workshop with their weekly rations.

As he rides, the plains stretch out before him for leagues, interrupted by rolling hills. Many-colored tents sparsely dot the landscape, surrounded by vast herds of bleating goats and braying camels. The countryside of Corvus. A few small villages can be seen as he passes, family estates and communities who reject the urban sprawl of the great city. In one, a group of children play Hesan in the street, swinging sticks at one another and laughing. An old farmer watches them idly, waving casually at Verran as he rolls by. Most people who live out here are simple folk, farmers and herders, content to live off of the land and what meagre purchases they can afford. Not all Corvidians are soldiers and merchants, despite their reputation.

As Verran crests the mesa, he pauses to admire the view for a moment. It is a bright and sunny day, with wisps of clouds floating idly across the horizon. From here, he can see across the far reaches of their ancestral lands. Broad roads are stamped across the region, rivers of grey and white stone drawing across the yellow hues of the earth. Sturdy wagons filled with gleaming stone and sheaves of grain roll down these ancient highways, bringing goods to market and sustenance to their brothers. They all head to the same place, arteries connecting to a heart.

The city standing atop the Sacred Hill, towering over the landscape. Corvus. The City of Bronze, as some called it. The Jewel of the West. Birthplace of the Chosen People, as the Corvidians viewed themselves. Arrogant, perhaps, but there was reason for such arrogance. It was a city of splendor. Murals stamped upon every spare wall, statues strewn across the marketplaces and workshops, songs played in every corner. Even the poor had some sort of comfort, with priestly alms sustaining the beggars and crippled among them.

Verran continues along his journey, as the sun beats across the sky. His trip is interrupted for a few minutes, as a company of soldiers jogs along the road towards the countryside. The Four-Pronged Standard Bearer at their front whistles at him sharply, and Verran quickly pulls off to the side of the road. Their bronze lamellar rattles and clanks as they go by, and the soldiers chant rhythmic songs, known as Jodan. Verran knows better than to provoke the ire of the Wolves. They are, to a man, bold and impetuous young men. To be a soldier is to sustain Corvus, to ensure her glory reigns eternal. It is also to live in brotherhood, and to know the hot and burning passion of battle. In other words, they are not the type which this humble yam farmer seeks to provoke. The regiment passes, their songs fading into the distance, and his journey resumes once more.

Finally, after hours of travel, he reaches one of the four gates of the city. It is a chaotic place, as carts and goods flow in and out of the city. Merchants and stablehands offer lodging for both man and rider, enterprising young men offer dried meat on a stick for a coin, and a few musicians play, with a frontman offering to play any song one wishes to hear for enough coin. Large signs and banners dangle from buildings, advertising wares, goods, performances, and other entertainment in bold colors and the large curving scripts of Corvan writing. But Verran’s trip to the city was not for entertainment, or to squander his hard-earned coin on beautiful women and barley-drink. He was here on business. His cart rumbled through the crowded roads, continuing past the entrance of the city, towards the Lower Hill districts.

Unlike the cities of the Deepkin or the Eleskar, there was very little ordered design in Corvus. The Lower Hill happened to hold many of the workshops that composed the commercial district of the city. The Upper Hill held the homes of the wealthy, along with the Scriptorum, and the vast array of governmental chambers and housing. At the peak of the summit was the Temple of a Thousand Pillars.

Ah, the Temple. A magnificent holy place, built atop the original Four Pillars erected by the first Sons. Priests of every nationality and faith preached here, claiming the merit of their beliefs. All beliefs had some worth to the Spirit-Guides of Corvus, after all. It was common knowledge that a true son of Corvus was fit to choose which virtues aspired to and values he held. Verran himself was partial to Jana the Mother, goddess of growth and all green things. An annual tribute of yams had given him good harvests for many years.

Finally, as the sun reaches its apex, the farmer rolls up to the gateway of the Grandhammer workshop. The sound of a roaring hearth and hammers clanking can be heard from the outside of the building, with soot-covered workers drinking outside during their break. Upon seeing him, a message-boy runs inside, notifying his masters.

After a few moments, a Master emerges from the shop. The status of the man is unmistakable. Though his clothing is the simple apron and leather pants of any smith, a necklace of thick bronze rings dangles down his chest, with a neatly trimmed beard organized by a band of gold. He is a thick man, muscle and fat, the product of good meals and hard work alike. Verran bows as the man draws closer.

“Master Grandhammer. I have brought the yams, as according to our agreement.” he says, extending his hand for a shake.

The Master ignores him, heading straight to the cart to observe the goods. Rude, but not uncommon. Manners and pleasantries are for the lessers in Corvan society - those with power need not concern themselves with the approval of others. He roots through the crates, balancing the vegetables in his hand, and taking a bite of a particularly ripe one.

“Hmph.” snorts Grandhammer as he chews. “Hmm.”

Verran holds his breath, crossing his fingers for luck.

“I suppose these will do for the day’s lunch.” the man says, finally completing his appraisal with a swallow and a belch. He tosses a small pouch to Verran, before lifting two crates atop a mighty shoulder, whistling for the messenger boy to grab the third. Eagerly, Verran opens it up to find the shining treasures within. He rustles his fingers around, feeling the coins. As promised by his contract - eight corans - a week’s wages. And he smiles.

At this rate, he may own a cart of his own someday.

TECH: 8 Tech Rolls (6 Palace Districts, 2 University) are spent on learning Gold Comprehension from the Deepkin.

CULTURE: 7 Culture / 13 Pops = <1

AUTHORITY:
Income: 5 in Corvus, 7 in Cavon, 2 in Corvin, 3 in Ceston, 3 in Dol Aeyld, 3 in Dol Angren, 12 from Hegemony = 35
Expenditure: 3 in Corvus, 2 in Cavon, 3 in Corvin, 2 in Ceston, 1 in Dol Aelyd, 1 in Dol Angren = 12

DISCONTENT:
Corvus: 3 Discontent / 4 Pops = Life is Good!
Cavon: 0 Discontent / 2 Pops = Life is Good!
Corvin: 3 Discontent / 3 Pops = Whispers in the Dark
Ceston: 3 Discontent / 2 Pops = Whispers in the Dark
Dol Aeyld: 3 Discontent / 1 Pop = Open Unrest!
Dol Angren: 3 Discontent / 1 Pop = Open Unrest!

by **Ralnis** » Fri Oct 01, 2021 9:35 pm

The Oligarchy of Warcyfle,
Year 200, Turn 1

Mek'pokk had saw the palace of the his father and his family. The Storm Chieftain that had ruled from first Ithoi and then the capital of this empire had saw everything with a tired eye. His wife had passed away long ago, her hatred for the destruction of their religion and culture sent her to Tes'la as she saw her children become worshipers of the Prime Deity. Even with the embracing of the Ed'son, the Outsider and the Eyes of Traitors which made people get disfunctual but it didn't matter.

To the Son of the Uniter, power was power. He needed to know this new power in order to propel the glory of the people. However the idea of the mundane had started to make itself more known as they saw the technological standing of both the Corvians and the Deepkin. Powerful hegemonic empires that started to make their ways into the Mirror Sea. He now noticed that all of the strength of the fleet didn't mean anything if they were to get invaded should they cross them.

The same schemes couldn't be used as they did against the former neighbors and he knew that, they weren't a city-state anymore. The gods of the Dawn and of the One were gone but there were always more challenges. The Corvians were a friendly bunch and brought them something that the people had never seen, paper. This lovely thing was helping the scholars of both the mundane and the religious. They already had the ability to mint coins but most of it was just made of coins and Teslanite.

They wanted to learn more about the mundane now. One called by the Corvians called the scientific method and one that could help the Warcyfle when it came to advance themselves. Other oligarch houses have came to approve of sending a delegation to both the Deepkin and the Corvians to try and bring trade to the Mirror Sea instead of war. It was something that wish to try and do since war was no longer on the table.

One major important thing that was approved to do is to colonize the Blessed Peninsula. The amount of logistics that was needed to do so were much more easier and people feared one might happen beforehand. However, Mek'pokk was going to make things better as he decided to set an active army to patrol the area and seek to disway any of the takers of so long ago. Besides many of the scholars who saw the building of the mighty Red Tower wanted to get their hands on the ancient blue gem in order to study it's effects and asked the question why they are able to learn the Path faster than normal.

Even now it was hard for people to accept the power of another god and hard to get the oligarchs to listen as the social upheaval has halted quite a bit of work and plans for the time being. It was fine for there wasn't much to do except prepare for the future of the Storm Father's World.

Actions For Turn 1:

Island of Lo:
2 Authroity activated
1 Pleb activated to work the agrictulture district[+6 food]
1 particians work the palace[+ 4 Authority]
2 Pleb activated to work on the artisan district[2/8 labor, 4/4 wealth]

Island of Aun'kal:
1 authority activated
1000 particans work the palace[ +4 Authority]
2 authority activated
1 pleb used to fish[+5 food] and the other to start working on a artisan district[ 1/8 labor, 2/4 wealth]

Island of Ithoi:
1 Authroity activated
Citizens work the Palace[+3 Authority]
1 Pleb activated to fish[+5 food]
1 pleb activated to build the artisan district[[1/8 labor, 2/4 wealth]

Special actions: 1 authority and 70 wealth are made to colonize Mauti/the Blessed Peninsula

Military actions: The 1 Warrior Army is sent to patrol the nation on boats and stuff.

Tech Actions: All 3 rolls for scientific method.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sat Oct 02, 2021 7:22 am

Year 400 Ends

The Great Yu Dynasty: There is much news this year. A formidable army of soldiers, calling themselves the Great Crusaders, have arrived out of the east at Zhai Cheng. They have come armed for war, but have yet to launch at attack, and seem open to negotiation. The Nirari offer to pay four Trade Value to the settlement of the Yu's choice if they are sent a Silk every year. And also black tidings; Huangzhou has been assaulted by night-raiders, and though some of her people escaped, a thousand Plebians were carried off by the interlopers...

The Pillar of Varra: Work to understand Trade Networks has been completed - our merchants will flourish with this comprehension.

The Magisterium of the Eleskar: The scholars have made a breakthrough in the field of Ritualized Geokinesis, allowing them to move vast quantities of stone in the field by careful coordination. The colonization of Talkorar is preceding slower than expected, and should be complete within three generations. Raiders out of the eastern forests have struck Kelskar, but were turned back by the garrison without significant loss of life or damage to the city.

The Landsraad Hegemony: The explorers from Kharbarinth have mapped an area northeast of northeast of Tenebrae. This land lays east of the Ocean of Sunrise, and is bordered to the north and east by grasslands. Hematite is to be found here, as well as emeralds. Galena laces the soil as well of the rocky lands. Prospecting in Kharbarinth has yielded no results. Explorers from Stalheim have discovered a barbarian encampment lurking northeast of northeast of east of Tenebrae. Prospecting in Stalheim has yielded no results. The colony of Nerroth has been established. Explorers sent from Forgefend have located a barbarian encampment just east of the city. The men sent west from Kar Agala have encountered an island not far from her coast, west beyond the coastal shallows. This land is heavily wooded, and to both south and west the island continues. Ocelots and great armored whales are to be found here, as well as fluffy cotton. Explorers map out the land east of east of Forgefend - a place of many trees and forested regions in all directions. Cattle roam here, and malachite is to be found in the soil. Game is also in abundance.

Efforts to intensity extraction efforts from outlying settlements have born fruit, as have the scholars' work on finding a utility for the pale purple gems mined in the east of the Hegemony.

The Divine Realm of Qadimahr: West and upriver from Qadimahr, the scouts have mapped out a fertile floodplain vale, bordered to north and south by wide deserts. Westward the floodplain continues. This land has gazelles, salt flats, and papyrus which grows along the bank of the river.

The Volgati: North of the lands of the Volgati the forest continues, wide deciduous trees shading the land. Further north the land is growing cold, pine forests and firs marching towards the horizon, and west the temperate woodlands pervade. East, however, open grasslands beckon. Cattle and the amber grain of the south grow here still, while impressive grizzly bears can be found here, dangerous to both man and beast in their savagery and sheer power.

Karun Velathrim: No news is good news in this case - the city grows and thrives in peace.

Machaka: 1 A determined assault upon Machaka by a large barbarian army has been seen off by her stalwart defenders, though not at less than great cost. Fully ten of the formidable God-Spiders, ancient armored arachnids as large as houses, have perished in the assault, and three hundred and six of her sons fell in battle defending the outlands. The enemy was well armed and cunning, but Machaka's defenders stood firm.

The Kingdom of Penithel: There is nothing to report this year except quiet industry - and that itself is not a bad thing to report.

Hesh: The explorers sent south, toward the mouth of the river, ascend into the mountainous highlands where many peaks smoke with unshed violence. This land is hard and broken, and bordered to both south and east and west by craggy hills and rolling plains. More obsidian and malachite, as well as great swathes of volcanic basalt, are to be found in these mighty peaks.

The Promethean Republic: The explorers Promethea map out a wide fertile valley of floodplains, bounded to both south and north by a great desert. Eastward this fertile vale continues. Papyrus grows here, and barley. There are also odd diving birds here, which appear to both fly above the water and make their nests beneath it, whose bodies are resplendent with what might be scales of brightest blue. The explorers have certainly never seen them before.

Sorrowfree: The brave men sent to harvest the Twisted Green from the depths of the lair of the abominations have been successful... this year.

The Great Crusade of Draesea: The scholars have made a breakthrough, which they term Construction. It should allow Draesea to erect mighty edifices within our growing city. There is little to report so far from the field - the army has arrived at a settlement called Zhai Cheng, and made contact with the locals.

The Republic of the River: There is black news. No word has been heard from Ironpeak since summer. Merchants have arrived saying that the city seems abandoned, and parts of it appear to have been burned by fire. The fate of our kinsmen is unknown...

Corvus: Bandits on the roads near Corvin have resulted in most of the commercial goods being sent to the city being plundered, and crime increasing in the region. -4 Wealth in Corvin. Protestors in Dol Angren are demanding an end to the military occupation, negating the Authority gain from the Palace next year and signaling a significant chance of open action against the Corvidian state.

Warcyfle: The study of Scientific Method has been completed, and our scholars now understand this secret. Mauti has been colonized, and is now beginning to grow. The bureaucrats estimate she will be a beautiful part of the empire within two generations.

Year 401 Begins

by **Novas Arcanum** » Sat Oct 02, 2021 9:04 am

中王国

The Middle Kingdom was besceeched by barbarians both from the north and east. Raiders had struck Huangzhou and made off with a thousand of it's citizens.The Yongheng Emperor would make defense and military might the top priority of the dynasty.In the coming days Yuzhou would pump out iron weapons and armor as in ancient times. In the meantime one thousand soldiers were being raised. May they fight with honor.

To the south in mighty Zhai Cheng a barbarian army speaking a tongue completely foreign to the Huang came. Their leader spoke in a harsh and guttural tone. They were clad in copper armor of long forgotten Xianbei peoples and threatened the harmony of the settlement. Has in ancient days, the Huang would respond via force, to secure peace...

Zhai Cheng

Zhai Cheng(+2 Culture) : 6000 Population | 2000 Plebians, 2000 Citizens, 1000 Patricians (-1 Silk,+1 Culture,-1 Discontent)
Army [Iron Armor, Iron Weapons, Composite Bows, Mounts (Unicorns) [Attacking barbarians (telegrammed G-Tech)]
Palace [Forbidden Palace(-2 Discontent ), Garrison, Jade Tower , Aqueduct, Simple Stone Wall] [+1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, +2 Authority.] [Studying from Northerners: Labor Coordination (6/10)]
Urban [Dense Housing]
Urban[Idle]
Artisan [Spinning House] [Worked by Citizen(+1 Wealth):+2 Wealth,+1 Industry]
Theater[+1 Culture| Worked by Citizen(+1 Wealth): +2 Culture,+1 Wealth]
Barracks [Idle]
Agriculture [+4 Food] [+1 Wealth]
Agriculture [+4 Food][+1 Wealth]
Agriculture [+4 Food][+1 Wealth]
Agriculture [+4 Food][+1 Wealth]
Plantation [+1 Food,+1 Wealth]
Forestry [+1 Silk,+1 Food]
Mining [+1 Stone|Worked by Plebian (+1 Labor): +1 Galena Ore,+1 Stone]
Modifier (+5 Trade Value)

Construction
Soldiers[5/5 Wealth|2/5 Industry]
Forge:[0/6 Labor| 0/6 Wealth|2/ 8 Industry]
Charcoal Pit [0/6 Labor | 2/2 Wealth]
University [6/8 Labor| 5/10 Wealth|2/ 6 Industry]
Blommery[0/8 Labor| 0/4 Wealth|0/7 Industry.]

Yuzhou

Yuzhou (+2 Culture): 4500 Citizens – 3000 Plebians , 1000 Bureaucrats (-1 Silk,+1 Culture,+1 Authority)
1000 Soldiers [Iron Armor,Iron Weapons] (Patrolling)
Palace [The Long Wall, Fitted Stone Wall, Aqueduct] [+1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, +2 Authority.] [Studying from Northerners: Labor Coordination (7/10)]
Urban
Mining [Deep Quarry][+2 Stone|Worked by Plebian (+1 Labor):+1 Hematite,+1 Stone)]
Agriculture[+3 Food] [+1 Wealth]
Agriculture [+3 Food] [+1 Wealth]
Forestry [+1 Silk,+1 Food] [Worked by Plebian (+1 Labor):+2 Timber. +1 Wealth]
Modifier (+2 Trade Value)

Construction
University[0/8 Labor| 6/6 Wealth|0/ 6 Industry]
Forge[6/10|4/4 Wealth|4/4 Industry]

Zhongdu

Zhongdu(+2 Culture): 2000 Population – 1000 Plebians, 1000 Citizens
Palace [Simple Stone Wall] [+1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, +2 Authority.] [Studying from Northerners: Labor Coordination (8/10)]
Agriculture [+3 Food] [+1 Wealth]
Modifier (+2 Trade Value)
Construction
Urban District [3/12 Labor| 4/8 Wealth| 2/4 Industry| 0/4 Timber]

Qindao

Qindao (+2 Culture): 2000 Population – 2000 Plebians
Palace [Simple Stone Wall] [+1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, 2 Housing, +2 Authority] [Studying from Northerners: Labor Coordination (9/10)]
Urban [ ]
Agriculture [+3 Food][+1 Wealth]
Modifier (+2 Trade Value)

Construction
Artisan District [4/8 Labor|| 4/4 Wealth]

Huangzhou

Huangzhou: 1000 Population – 1000 Plebians
Palace [ ] [+1 Wealth, +1 Industry, +2 Food, 2 Housing, +2 Authority] [Studying from Northerners: Labor Coordination (10/10)]

Construction
Urban District [0/12 Labor||0/8 Wealth| 0/4 Industry| 0/4 Timber]/Paused
Simple Wall [4/10 Labor|1/ 3 Wealth|2/3 Industry |0/7 Stone]
Modifier (+2 Trade Value)

CULTURE 25/16 = 1.56 (Exerting cultural pressure on nearby civilizations?)

by **The Empire of Tau** » Sat Oct 02, 2021 9:19 am

Introduction to the History of Early Machaka Vol. 3
Page 131 - Of Republic and Stratification

It is important to understand that the term, republic, should not be confused with our own perceptions of it. Machaka only gave voting rights and political exercise to those of wealthy status and those in various standing noble households. The rest of society, meanwhile, had no legal right to vote or do any form of political action within the state or elsewhere. In further detail, wealth decided the right to political power. The aristocracy (nobility) were the ones with the most economic power with their direct ownership of land and capital assets to their name. The enmassed wealth and financials allowed the concerns and priorities of the aristocracy to be echoed greatly throughout the various bureaucratic apparatus of Machaka. Titles and property were largely hereditary, allowing the creation of long-standing noble households that held onto their power for quite some time: greatly restricting socioeconomic class movement. Below the aristocracies were individuals that enmassed enough wealth to be legally considered citizens. For the most part, these people were land-lords, extremely successful merchants, wealthy craftsmen, and likewise. The purchasing of citizenship was the most common way to gain legal status for political involvement. Other methods also included serving within the army, being given citizenship by a state official, among others. Below them was the rest of society, the majority population of Machaka. These people had no legal representation within the state and barely had any opportunities to escape their unfortunate positions. This was made worse by the passing of a series of bills that made it legal to enslave certain parts of the laboring class on different grounds: be that due to unpaid debts, crimes, etc. This caused great discontent within the population, but the state apparatus managed to quell any form of issues within the year by the employment of private thugs and usage of the army in certain sections of the city. The already stratified society soon became ever more stratified as the process of enslaving the lower classes became extremely common.

by **Aidannadia** » Sat Oct 02, 2021 4:02 pm

As the clergy continues to formalize its hierarchy to aid in the running of the new nation, King Minus continues to direct the will of Flow, that the Divine Realm shall extend its reach first throughout the Qadimahr Valley and then across the world, bring order to this chaotic world. A colony not far upriver is soon established. While their expansion is their divine duty, an eventuality foretold by coming of the savior Minus, it is still slow going, but the river rushes through the valley still.

News of trouble upriver, whisper among those in the know, tell of unrest in a civilization upriver, but of what kind it is unclear. Assuming they are not guided by the crook of the clergy, it is only natural their civilization should fall to the wayside of history, but The Divine Realm's reach could hardly extend so far so soon. Surely, their people will be brought into line with the flock, lest they fall the blood mages of old and present issue to the Realm's safety.

by **Olthenia** » Sun Oct 03, 2021 10:44 am

Sorrowfree

The song rose and fell into the summer evening, the choir’s voices first high and clear, now low and soothing. Until they finally, solemnly, grew still. The prayer-hymn called the ‘Song of Welcome’ was the first and foremost of all the hymns sung by the priestesses of fair Sorrowfree. Its object of welcome? Its noble addressee? Why, none other than the Queen of the Evening; the Mother-Moon. Sorrowfree and all the Khortuun’s principal protector. And now, with the song finished, the choir in the sunbaked courtyard – the looming temple of the Mother-Moon tall and unfinished behind them – grew gossipy. They had held their places in ordered ranks while the hymn was sung. But now? With the last note done and the evening ahead? Now the dutiful acolytes in their linen robes and obsidian necklaces of the Mother-Moon’s humblest acolytes were starting to mill about. A gaggle of girls beelined for the prayer-pool, their thirsts to quench; while others in pairs or intimate trios fell to idle chatter. A tall spinner’s daughter with beads in her hair let loose a shrill peal of laughter at a friend’s joke; her mirth none the less drowned in the hubbub and chatter - that was until a sudden clap! of hands demanded their attention.

“Thank you, sisters~!” Elder Haweya’s stern tone silenced all conversation. “Now please, see yourselves home in an orderly manner. And remember! Tomorrow’s practice starts after the mid-day meal!”

The choir’s matron was an older, haggard woman – stern of face and mean of voice. Some said Elder Haweya had been a Bonadar before taking the white to enter the Mother-Moon’s temple. Others insisted that, why no – far from being a War-Mother, the leader of the acolytes’ choir had in fact been a notorious slave owner. A mean accusation, perhaps – but not one entirely without merit. Elder Haweya had eyes like a buzzard and a voice to match.

“Augh. Can you believe that?” Emeza’s voice was a downcast groan. “Right after the mid-day meal!”

“Yeah, so?” queried her friend Mpenzi. The two acolytes had drifted but a dozen steps from the courtyard; streaming out into the early evening and the long, winding road to Sorrowfree proper. Beneath them, the cliff-side city greeted the evening with a bevvy of lanterns, cookfires and the odd torch. Soon – very soon – the coming night’d be all but obscured behind a haze of smoke.

“So?” Emeza retorted. “So we have chores to do! We have all those robes to clean, and water to fetch, and Sister Agu probably wants us to copy more glyphs too. And-“

Beside her, Mpenzi took her friend’s complaints with a grain of salt. “You’re just worried you won’t have time to see your boy from the Sun-Temple.” And gosh – one look from Emeza told her precisely how right she was. “What?” she demanded. “Did you think I didn’t see you eyeing him back at the market?”

“I… I wasn’t eyeing him!” Emeza protested. “I was just-!”

But Mpenzi was merciless. “Giiirl, you were eyeing him so bad you’d think he was a fresh drink of water!”

“Pfft!” Emeza hissed – thoroughly unamused. “Shuddup already. You don’t even know.”

“Hahah! Yeah, too right I don’t-“ Mpenzi agreed, and tugged the hem of her robe about her, warding her slender self against a chilly breeze. “So dish.”

For one heartbeat and then another, Emezi just side-eyed her fellow acolyte’s smirking face. And then she, too, was smiling. “Okay, so it’s like - the first time I saw him, we were--“ The chatter bore them down towards the city, and the evening spread its dim in the high, high sky above. And there? Just beyond the haze of the cookfires? A faint, silvery twinkle of many, many stars.

The Mother-Moon's messengers.

TECH: Wise minds in Sorrowfree, safely ensconced at the Prophet's Retreat - and Three-Brothers and Kura Kumbe also – still busy themselves with the study of the Corvidian doctrine of the Living State.

CULTURE: 3 Culture / 8 Pops = <1

AUTHORITY:
Income: 5 in Sorrowfree, 3 in Three-Brothers, 3 in Kura Kumbe = 11
Expenditure: 5 + 1 + 1 = 7

DISCONTENT:
Sorrowfree: 0 Discontent / 6 Pops = Life is good!
Three-Brothers-Town: 0 Discontent / 1 Pop = Life is good!
Kura Kumbe: 0 Discontent / 1 Pop = Life is good!

CIVICS: Battle Fervor, Sacred Crafts.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Oct 03, 2021 3:19 pm

The Man Who Meddles

Spawn-Pens, Black Caverns, Khoramor
Eighteenth of Rain's Hand, Year Four Hundred One of the Reckoning

The black figure in the pit below snapped and snarled, figure mostly invisible save for the patches of dark fur which glistened intermittently in the wet light of the torches and the lamps. Lurid came the light from within its pen, sickly and unearthly, and other dark lumps were scattered about the muddy enclosure. The lumps showed vivid crimson and scarlet whenever the lanterns of the watchers fell on them, before returning again to inky midnight when the radiance passed onward.

"He is bigger, that's for sure. More wild, yea, but bigger. Up to five stones of meat every week, and begging for more when he can get it."

The handler's words were impassive, but the face of the mage next to him significantly less so. In the black caverns not far from the fallen star the green-trimmed robes of the acolyte of the Tower of the Wyrd were conducting experiments which unsettled him not a little. The Emperor and a lion's share of the Great Houses were in favor of the investigations the enchanters were conducting, here at the base of the Father's Forge-Stone, but he had seen much in the squalid pits that did not look divine in nature - rather the opposite.

But these were dark times. Rumor was that battalions of the Guard had had to be deployed, not only from Stalheim, but also from Forgefend, to crush detachments of wild men that were encroaching on civilized lands. The flame was only so bright as the fuel which fed it, and flesh and blood had their limit. There was nothing beneath the sun which the Mother had not borne for the use and sustenance of her children. Even these twisted and shrieking abominations had their place in the tapestry.

"One out of a hundred. We'll need to step up efforts at the ranches if your attrition rates keep up to the projections."

The handler shrugged. "One out of a thousand, and we're still doing good work here. I've put forward requests for prisoners, and so has Magos Axia. The implications of exposing a man to the Unmaking are too pertinent to ignore."

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Sun Oct 03, 2021 4:14 pm

The Volgati

Arazbija watched the deer fall, the arrow whistled short, sharp, and harsh through the cold morning air. Suddenly, it came to a stop - the whistle finished with the creature's cries of pain. Her mother nodded with assurance, throwing the bow over her shoulder and pulling herself back atop the horse. "Now, we follow it." She commanded over to her, as the two of them watched the deer limp and buck through the brush. It wasn't hard to follow it- even at a decent trot, the poor suffering thing never left their vision. Still, it ran for a while. "Life never easily leaves this world." Her mother had told her that long ago. A rule that her father echoed, though he spoke of men, and not of rabbits or deer.

They found where the suffering beast had made it's deathbed- behind a huddle of shrubs, their bare twigs splatted with blood. It had searched for shelter, a safe place to die. With a sigh, her mother hopped down off her horse. She rested her palm on her hip, next to her own mother's knife. She stopped, and turned to Azarbija - still sitting on her horse. "Well come on then, girl, better to learn how your mother keeps her children fed!"

Azarbija felt sick, watching the thing suffer. Yet the fear of her mother war just as great, and she relented. The two of them approached the twitching, glassy-eyed creature. The blood, the smell of death was over it. Her mother seemed not to notice, and quickly knelt down beside it. Azarbija wanted to look away - yet the greusome way her mother cut the beast's throat was entrancing. Hearing her muffled squeels, her short, muscled mother looked over her shoulder with a grunt. "You'll learn one day to accept your place within this world, Azarbija. You must. Tangra named us the holders of all land under him. You must learn to shoulder this responsibility."

A rip, a short struggle, and the thrashing of legs - soon enough the deer hung from a tree-branch. Its carcass swung in the wind.

"You have to learn to be like your ancestors. To live like wolves. Killing, is how the she-wolf keeps her cubs with milk."

A Different World: Imperium and Empire [IC|Closed]

A Different World: Imperium and Empire [IC|Closed]

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