Slums are shit. Croak makes himself some prayer beads, only to witness a nearby death.
Mourns the death through croaksong. Gets a lil’ carried away.
Gets chased off for singing loudly. Finds his hatred of humanity renewed.
Part 2 - Princess Taomei:
Note of Muha’s ambassador arrives at the Summer Palace at Amarra in Red Clay. Taomei’s so surprised she floats on clouds.
Guard suggests it may be a fraud. Taomei threatens to kill the guard for even suggesting that their cousins whom they haven’t had formal contact with for nearly a thousand years may be frauds.
Taomei’s brother Taozan manages to calm her down. They send for the emissary thereafter.
Part 3 - Prince Yanri, Queen Liansong, Princess Wanmei:
Yanri writes some letters on the porch and his mom comes to talk to him. They enjoy themselves until they hear the Emps being naughty in the background. Mommy leaves after she makes Yanri feel uncomfortable (secret: They’re dating).
Yanri writes a hate letter to his unfaithful father. Burns it thereafter.
Turns out he ran into the servant kitchens to burn it and attracted lots of attention. His sister Wanmei comes to the rescue, but the prince is not too keen on her help. Eventually, though, as she starts complaining, he takes pity on her and tells her to take a letter to the Black Dragon Triads for him.
Ribbigus Croak - The Embers of Ancient Hate
Spring of 998, Laojiu Lane, a slum by the docks of Shi...
Rosaries were difficult to get a hand of around these parts - the pearls and stones on the market here were never of the right kind. The stonegrounds around Shi had grown barren after decades of desperate exploitation by prayer-starved mucklings - but how could he blame them, though?
Finally the centre of the stone gave way to his improved rock hammer. With his spinkly, green fingers, he threaded the stone into his rosary and gave it a critical stare. Genuine pearls from local freshwater clams given to him by his old master, hung on a thread and spaced intermittently with polished pieces of charcoal, hardened fish scales and silvery rocks. It wasn’t perfect, but Croak hadn’t seen anything more beautiful in many, many years.
A sudden scratch of foot against wet mud broke his trance and the muckling ducked behind a heap of rotting fish.
“Fockin’ hell, bruv, what yer gods-damned step, would ya?”
More scratching and slipping followed, hastened by desperation and fright. A skimpier voice than the first one replied, “Bloody-- oof, sorry, mate. Was an accident, I swear.”
“Issat right?” the first voice replied again. A short whimper was heard, then the sound of an object, likely wooden, smashing against the old boards of the pier. Croak drew a silent sigh. Humans were always like this - always.
“O-oi! What was-- agh!”
“You talkin’ back, issat it?” The whimper grew smaller, replaced instead by gasps and coughing. Croak’s fingers anxiously fingered the pearls of his rosary. Would the black days never end in this purgatory of a city?
“Oi, lads! Got ourselves someone dyin’ for a swim,” the deep voice cackled maliciously. Distant cheers egged it on. The small whimpers had by now been entirely overtaken by struggling snarls coloured by fearful sobs. Croak could hear it try to whisper something before it was deafened out by a deep cackle.
“Feed yer family?! Hah! So you’ve got a wife, huh? Maybe I’ll pay ‘er a visit after ye’re sleepin’ in the Midland Sea, how’s that?”
The sobs intensified. Croak looked down at his rosary and swallowed. He rubbed one of the pieces of charcoal with his slimey, wet fingers and drew across his face the symbols he knew so well by now. As the voices faded away and the ordeal was completed with a distant splash, Croak whispered to himself a sorrowful song in the ancient art of croaksong. His master had taught him every word of the long dead art, explained that it was a most sacred rite to their people - here, in the dead of night, witnessing so close a death of the innocent, would be a most natural place to exercise it.
It started low, almost like a gurgle. His fibers vibrated with the guttural song; his bones quivered with the primal growl. A death necessitated a melancholic tune, as was tradition - at least in the beginning. However, Croak hadn’t know this man, and would therefore maintain the sorrowful undertone throughout the whole song, lest the spirits would be confused about his motivation for singing. After a series of sequences from the depths of his voice, he forgot himself for a moment and unleashed a wailing croak of the highest pitch. Momentarily, he felt a burning joy in his chest, almost intoxicating. He was singing - he was actually singing, expressing the song of his people in honour of the dead. Like the shamans of ancient times, he was--
“Blazes, where the fack is it?!” came a foul snarl not even twenty metres away. Croak shut himself up and immediately scrambled for the water.
“There it is! Get it!” A group of thundering footsteps slapped into wet mud and soft planks behind Croak. The muckling fell onto all fours to pick up speed. Up ahead was the edge of the docks. He reached the edge and jumped. A second later, the lukewarm water of the Midland Sea surrounded him and the voices were shut out. He swam a distance away, still underwater, and surfaced for air once the lights of the docks above had grown dimmer. In the distance, he heard curses and spitting. He slowly crawled ashore and sought refuge between some wrecked crates and barrels. Drawing some panting breaths, he tried to calm himself.
“Fackin’ mucklings,” came a voice from the other side of the barrel wreckage. Croak sucked in his breath and thought prayers to himself.
“... Where are you… Don’t think I didn’t see ya come up!” Feet dragged themselves across the wooden boards. Croak felt his lungs cry out for more air, but he couldn’t allow himself to breathe. A heap of wood struck the floors - the man had overturned the neighbouring barrel wreck. “Damn froggy rats… People are tryin’ to sleep!” Another heap slammed into the ground. Croak squeezed shut his eyes.
Then, however, the steps slowed and their owned clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Waste of my bloody evenin’...” he muttered and the steps faded away into the distance. Croak finally could breathe again and he gasped for it. His people couldn’t sweat, but he wiped his brow almost instinctively anyway. A sensation felt unfamiliar in his hand and he eyed the rosary in it. A black bile of rage bubbled within him, aimed both at his stupidity and humanity - for in his escape, he had shattered one of the pearls given to him by his master. He hammered the floorboards below with his fist; then he did it again and again. As he struck the ground, his fury morphed into sorrow, and it did not take long before he put his aching hand over his eyes and whimpered.
He would sing again for another loss tonight, but it would be as he had done it every other night: On a distant spot with no one around within earshot - completely alone without even the spirits to keep him company.
Abandoned like his heritage.
Princess Taomei - A Stranger at the Door
Spring of 998, Summer Palace in Amarra, provincial capital of Red Clay, Eastern Gu-Wei... @Slagar
“And hang those flowers up there. No, wait… No, there is much better.” The servant followed the princess’ finger from the centre to the corner of the room, where he promptly hung a large hammock-like bed of flowers from the roof. The princess hummed and pointed to the wall. “On second thought, hang them up on the walls - and make them symmetrical this time.”
The servant craned his head in obedience and did as he was told. Princess Taomei pursed her lips and scanned the hall. Everything would have to be perfect. Spring was nearing its end, and soon the summer heat would make Shi an unbearable place for her dear brother. He would finally come back to her - finally come back and fulfill all those promises he always made in his letters, and--
“Daughter of the Phoenix, princess Taomei,” came a call from the hall door and Taomei’s thoughts returned to reality. She blinked and spun around, her silk dress dancing through the air like a whirlwind of leaves.
“Yes? What is it, messenger?”
The messenger fell to his hands and knees before the princess and put his forehead to the floor, or at least as far down as his large helmet allowed him to. “The peacekeepers on the Narcaepian border have received word that a stranger has entered Red Clay. Further reports say he arrived in Amarra this morning. He says he brings word from the King of Muha!”
Taomei nearly dropped what he was holding, which was a sheet of paper outlining the interiour decoration plan. She looked shocked, almost, which she might as well have been, as she sat down on a nearby chair. The messenger dared look up anxiously for a moment before facing the floor again.
“Our… Our home has sent its ambassador to us?”
The messenger hesitated to answer for a moment. “Yes, Daughter of the Phoenix,” he eventually said. Taomei placed two fingers on her temple and shook her head in disbelief.
“Well, what are you waiting for?! Send word for him to be brought to the palace at once!”
The messenger looked up. “B-but Your Majesty - he could be a fraud!”
Taomei gasped. “How dare you insult one of our own like that?! I will have you drawn from behind a chariot if you even dare repeat such baseless accusations again, do you--”
“Sister Taomei, please,” came a calm, quiet voice behind them. It was the Emperor’s elder brother, Taozan. Taomei quieted down and stared daggers at her brother instead. The messenger appeared to be praying. Taozan put aside the calligraphy station he was using and rose to his feet, his oversized black robes falling to the ground around his feet like sacks of grain. “Messenger, return to the peacekeepers’ office. Have them escort our esteemed guest to the palace. I believe we can judge appropriately whether he is a fraud or not.”
The messenger nodded shiveringly and sprinted back out. The doors shut behind him and left the hall quiet except for the interiour decor workers. Taomei scowled at Taozan. “You let him off too easy. Death would be a kind fate for those who dare accuse our brethren of something so foul as fraud.”
Taozan sighed and intertwined his fingers behind his back. “He didn’t mean it that way. He was only worried for us. Family of the Emperor is just as valuable to criminals as gold and jewels.” He shuffled his way over to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder. “This can potentially be a momentous occasion. No need to sully it with blood and death.”
Taomei huffed. “I hate it when you’re right.” She picked up the interiour design plans and went back to ordering around the servant. Taozan wrinkled his nose in worry and smacked his lips thoughtfully together before returning back to his seat.
Prince Yanri - A Dagger Before Me
Spring of 998, Imperial Palace of Shi, capital of Gu-Wei, northern Gu-Wei...
It was midday - the sun’s angle indicated as much. Birds tweeted innocently in the garden trees, chatting up their neighbours and pecking for bugs under the bark. Insects buzzed idyllically around the flowers and danced to the strings of a guzheng in the distance. On the porch sat a prince, one nearly as beautiful as the garden by his side. With his hand, he pulled a black-tipped brush across a white, rice-paper page. His movements were soft, gentle, controlled; his breathing was similar, easing in and out his mouth in harmony with his strokes. The characters of guwen that formed on the paper were expertly written - each was a work of artistry without deviating too much from a standard font.
Soft footsteps approached. The prince knew so well the weight of these steps - the way the heel connected to the creaking floorboards and rolled over on a ball molested by foot binding, giving them an ever so slight limp. He did not avert his eyes from the paper, for he did not need them to see who was coming. Before long, a warm hand squeezed the shoulder of his free hand.
“My, what’re you writing, Yanri? A poem?” came her voice like silk and cream. She smelled of lavender again. The prince wiped clean the brush with a rag and set it aside.
“A letter, Mother,” he replied softly and sprinkled sawdust over the wet ink, allowing it to dry before rolling it up into a scroll and sealing it with a wax-marked band The queen hummed softly.
“Is that so? To whom, if I may ask?”
“To my brother. It is to wish him well in his coming campaign.” The prince held the letter out in an arbitrary direction. A servant came over, took it with a bow and left. The prince then gestured to the other side of the small table he was sitting by. “Would you join me, Mother?”
“Of course,” said the queen and sat down, her smile as warm as the sunlight itself. She made herself comfortable and the prince snapped his fingers. Some more servants came over and bowed.
“Bring my Mother and I some chopped fruit, biscuits and hot tea. No oranges.” The servants bowed with a quiet ‘as you wish, Your Majesty’ and hurried off, taking the writing itinerary with them. Silence reigned thereafter, broken only by occasional birdsong. The prince stared out to the garden. His mother stared at him, her eyes groggy with dreaminess, complemented by the smile about her lips. The prince gave her a quick glance and snickered.
“What?”
“You look so handsome in the sunlight, my dear,” the queen said softly. The prince snickered some more.
“I have my grandfather’s looks, after all - you’ve said so yourself.”
“Numerous times. All in hope that everyone will accept it as fact - even your father.”
As if destiny had elected for it to happen, a holler of laughter escaped a nearby part of the palace, a fairly distinct deep voice present among all the women. The queen flinched, her eyes scowling at the tabletop. Yanri scowled over his shoulder.
“... How can you let him treat you like this?” asked the prince venomously. The spite in his eyes was further reinforced by his hand massaging the pommel of a short sword on his hip. The other, he tightened into a fist on the tabletop. “He’s mocking you - mocking us!”
“I know, Yanri, I know…” replied the queen and reached out wrap his fist in her hands. “But you know the customs of your grandfather. I will have to endure it - just as I have for the past century.” She brought her son’s fist to her lips and kissed it. “... That’s why I’m so glad to have you by my side.”
The prince swallowed and slowly pulled his hand to himself. The queen blinked anxiously, her eyes full of questions.
“Not, not in public, Mother. You know, you--...” His voice became a whisper. “... You know I love you, but we cannot let others know that -you- are unfaithful. Father would have our mutilated corpses rotting on pikes above the Phoenix’ Nest for all to see.”
The queen blinked, her eyes shifting away with anxiety. “You… You’re right… You’re always right.” She snickered to herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking…” She rose to her feet. Yanri sighed.
“Mother, I--”
“It’s quite alright, Yanri. I’m… Happy you care so much for us.” She gave him a warm smile. “It’ll be our turn soon. I can feel it.” With that, she walked down the porch, her hand fingering the leaves of the many shrubs to her left along the way.
Yanri remained by the table, and as the servants came with snacks and tea, he requested that they bring back his writing equipment. As he sat by the table writing, he could hear the rowdier and rowdier noises from the room behind him. It affected his form, soft curves in his characters becoming erratic edges. His brush lost its smooth shape eventually, aggressive strokes ruining the tip. By the end, his letters were nothing but paper smudged with blots of ink.
The prince held up his letter to inspect it. The garden had grown dark as clouds blotted out the sun. Birds had deserted it, and the insects had moved to distant flowers. To the chorus of the voices, he read within him the hateful letter:
“Dear Emperor Yandi, son of Yanshen, founder of the Chu Dynasty,
You are the phoenix, o Emperor - son of fire and ash, master of life and death. You are the sun and the moon, the link ‘tween heaven and earth. Undoubtedly, you are a divine among mortals.
Such power, such immortality - the hubris within you overpowers them both. Water chokes flame, the seas was away ashes and embers. Life will leave you; death, consume you. The sun will set and so will the moon, and as the heavens reign flame upon your worthless spirit, the earth shall swallow your corpse and torment it forever.
Beware, Father - for even gods will perish before the fury of mortalkind.
Signed, Prince Yanri, son of Yandi, your successor.”
Immediately upon reading it completely, Yanri froze. He ran inside the palace and found the first and nearest brazier, depositing the letter inside. He watched the paper crumble to ashes and felt the anxiety in his chest fade, but not disappear. What had made him write those words? Had he been caught by anyone, even someone so lowly as a passerby handmaiden, it would’ve been over for him. He smacked his cheek angrily.
“You fool,” he spat to himself. A small host of curious servants had gathered behind him, spearheaded by his little sister Wanmei. She approached him carefully, her round, somewhat misaligned eyes frowning slightly.
“Brother Yanri? Are you alright?”
Yanri turned and nodded slowly after a moment. “Y-yes… I’m fine. I just thought an insect had landed on my cheek.”
“Why are you by the fire? It’s hot outside,” Wanmei pointed out. The prince frowned.
“What, can’t a prince of Chu allow himself a moment by the fire? How about you, sister Wanmei? What are you doing following me like this? And you, servants? Have you nothing else to do but to stalk royalty like this?”
“W-with all due respect, Your Majesty,” went one of the servants. The prince took a moment to look around and colour drained from his face. “These are the kitchens, great Son of the Phoenix,” finished the servant. Cooks and waiters stared oddly at the prince from every angle. Prince Yanri blinked.
“Y-yes… Of course. Forgive me, I have been quite rash and rude. Back to work. I will take my leave.” The prince stormed out past his sister and the servants at the door, heading down the labyrinthian hallways.
“H-hey, wait up!” came a voice behind him. He didn’t turn around, for he knew who it was, and soon Wanmei had shown up by his side. “What’s the hurry?”
“What’re you doing here, Wanmei?” sighed Yanri.
“Why, following my awesome, lovely brother, of course! Why else would I be here?”
“-Why- are you following me?”
“Because I can tell you’re lonely - and that you need your beautiful sister to keep you company!” she giggled and took the hem of his robe in her hand. Yanri groaned and pulled his robe to him again. Wanmei huffed.
“What? Why are you so angry?”
“Can’t you tell?” Yanri replied back sharply. Wanmei stopped and put her hands on her hips.
“You’re always so mean! I just try to be nice to you and all you ever do is throw me aside like, like, like some…” Yanri slowed down and turned, his tired eyes showing her a shred of pity.
“Some, some… Ah!” Wanmei stopped mumbling as Yanri took her hand and knelt down before her. The young elf blushed and blinked. “Wh-what’re you doing?”
“Wanmei… Would you do anything for me?”
The princess swallowed. “O-of course, brother. A-anything.” Yanri packed his hands around hers even tighter.
“Do you mean that?”
The princess’ eyes took on a firm glow. “Yes!”
“Then… Could you do me a favour?” Yanri quickly extracted a letter from the inside of his robe. It was different than those he had written before - and the seal was not of the royal kind. She put it in Wanmei’s hands and smiled at her.
“You must bring this by yourself. Trust no one else with this letter. If you do…” His voice trailed off into silence. Wanmei swallowed.
Capitalist oligarchy. A small minority of extremely rich individuals with multistellar companies oversee the governance of the Raygon systems. They control the majority of the market, and are thus able to govern as much as they want, essentially, adjusting and twisting prices to suit their policies and bend the populace into following, and using market and customer surveys to pick up on democratic participation. The corporations in power shift from time to time depending on their financial situations. The current ones in power are the Og’slough Bros., an asteroid mining conglomerate; Adamantium Bank, the sector’s central bank; Cognito, the tech and online services super-company behind social media such as PiKtogram and Mi-self; Sustynance, a colossal agri-foods provider with almost a monopoly on all trade of edible goods within the nation; and Gala-Grid, an absolutely massive producer of consumer electronics, home appliances, vehicle parts, you name it. Together, these five megacorporations keep the empire afloat by ensuring a loveably stable, yet profitable market for a naïvely suppressed populace.
Raygon, and the planet of Raygon 8 in particular, is an incredibly diverse sector of space, home to as many as seven different species of xenos, with humans making up an eighth.
Humans: While the humans of Raygon themselves are somewhat unremarkable, if not a little stunted by the slightly stronger gravity on Raygon 8, they are undoubtedly one of the most technologically developed species in the nation, bested perhaps by the Petalosi. Typically standing around 170cm on average for males and 162cm for women, they are also among the shortest species in the nation. Their skin colours come in all shades between white and black, and their hair follows a much similar pattern with the addition of reds. Humans make up roughly 16% of the nation’s population and are concentrated on Raygon 8.
Petalos: Humanoid plantoids evolved from a special species of flower from the planet of Aether, located in the Sage system. The planet also goes by the name Sage 3. Petalosi are on average 2 metres tall, both for males and females, and typically come in colours from green to dark blue to purple to red. Their skin has a leaf-like coarseness to it, and while they are described as humanoid, they can grow up to two additional sets of arms and legs in addition to the pairs they are grown with. Petalosi are dependent on three sources of sustenance to survive: Sunlight, water and earth. Unfortunately, what little earth remains on Raygon 8 has long since been polluted to lethal levels, so their food is usually imported from Aether. The atmosphere on Raygon 8 is also incredibly dense at times, making it hard to get sufficient sunlight. As such, Petalos homes come equipped with solarium lamps.
The Petalosi have a natural sense of ingenuity and innovation, fascinated with everything and anything that grows, whether that be plants, lab experiments or numbers on a financial graph. This has made them among the most demanded in the national workforce, taking jobs such as inventors, scientists, engineers, economists and stock brokers. As such, one rarely ever sees a poor Petalos. In many circles, they are the very symbol of success and wealth, and can occasionally suffer hate for it. Petalosi make up 4% of the nation’s population.
Raygonian (or Trrt-oprr in their native tongue): Raygonians are dense in most senses of the word, being stocky, powerfully built and incredibly tough, standing on average 181 centimetres tall for males and 186 for females. Their skin is leathery and at times scaley, their eyes beady, and their mugs mean. However, their minds very bright, especially when it comes to trade, geometry, industry and construction. Raygonians were already far into the space age by the time the first humans arrived, and really, it would be odd if they weren’t. Raygon used to be a resource rich beacon of life, making it perfect for natural industrialists. Raygonians have changed much in the last 700 years, having been forced to genetically alter themselves to adjust to the changing atmosphere of their planet, which by now is near toxic in areas. They are naturally communal, having lived in enormous, hive-like societies for aeons. This comes in handy on Raygon, where the population density is roughly 1 000 000 per square kilometre. Raygonians make up 27% of the nation’s population, existing almost entirely on Raygon.
Putt: Putts come from the fringe desert planet of Demos 4, also known as Oppo. They’re slightly shorter than human males on average, standing on average 167 centimetres for both males and females, sly and business-savvy, hailing from a tiny desert planet where competition, exploitation and opportunism means survival. They are skinny and fragile, however, and make for poor soldiers. No, their speciality comes in the business of trade, them being among the finest salespeople around. It is said that a Putt could sell human food to a petalos. Putts are surprisingly at ease with the Raygon atmosphere, and frequently move around in the streets without protection gear. The Putts make up around 11% of the population.
Simmie: The Simmies would be quite familiar to humans, seeing as they actually came with them. They are great apes (including chimpanzees, bonobos, gorillas and orangutans) brought along by humanity for experimentation. Eventually exposed to a brain-altering serum, the apes developed an almost human-like self-conscious and understanding. While they are only 200 years old as a new subgroup of great apes, they possess an almost eerie level of civility, having adopted a great deal of cultural norms from humanity. They still separate themselves in a number of ways, particularly by means of language, which they convey through hand signs and grunts. Simmies commonly work as mechanics, electricians, drone operators and construction workers on account of their agility and dexterity, or as translators when Mi-self Translate is down. Their numbers are few, only making up 2% of the population, and they are concentrated on Raygon.
Qurok: Quroks are enormous humanoids hailing from the outer sector, specifically from Ripp. They have thick, leathery skin in the shade of meaty pink, earlike shapes growing out of their skulls made of bone, and have keen senses of smell. They stand on average 2,3 metres tall for both males and females. Ripp is a savage system, and Ripp 3 is a gruesome place to evolve, being a hellish landscape of toxic swamps, massive predators and an acidic atmosphere. Quroks originally evolved underground, where they formed colonies that would hunt on the surface. They developed enormous lung capacity, a natural resistance to toxic gases, and the ability to seal shut every orifice in their body and protect their eyes with thick layers of biological glass - if not for the cold of space, they would be able to survive by just holding their breath. Once Raygon emissaries reached them and introduced them to technology, the Quroks have taken up work on industrial worlds and space stations, requiring very little oxygen to actually sustain themselves. Given that they only were discovered a little under a century ago, many of their tricks from hunting still remain, and many Quroks take up work as mercenaries and bounty hunters. Quroks make up roughly 9% of the population and are scattered throughout all three sectors.
Gubby: Gubbies are tiny cephalopods with humanoid heads, growing only to be around fifty centimetres long. They hail from the undersea cities of Tang 4 (also known as Urpie), where they’ve lived for aeons without disturbance. However, when their planet was discovered to possess insane amounts of thorium, Raygon corporations soon began to swarm around. It turned out that the Gubbies were not the peaceful squids the planetary surveys suggested, but where instead highly skilled weapons developers. While their underground production facilities were less than stellar in comparison to Raygon industry, the pulverised ships in Urpie’s orbit could not dispute their firepower. Gubbies were immediately contacted with peaceful and cooperative intent and are today the minds behind top-tier companies such as Helios Arms Inc. and CruiserCorp. Gubbies make up a total of 3% of the total population and typically move around in suits when not on their home planet, as they are extremely sensitive to other environments.
Cybe: ‘Cybe’ is the common nickname for any individual composed of at least fifty percent cybernetic enhancements. There come from all manner of species from all around the cluster, but share the trait that they are more machine than living. These can range from half man-half machine to full androids and drones. All are typically employed to do tasks too dangerous for the living, such as deep space maintenance, resource extraction on toxic or radioactive worlds and others. Together, they make up a total of 10% of the population.
Other minorities too small to mention make up the remaining 18% of the population of the sectors.
As the nation’s name implies, the entirety of the state is centred around a single system - Raygon. However, the corporation state’s sphere of influence stretches far beyond the encumenopolis’s home. The whole sphere encompasses a total of seven systems: Raygon as its core, bordered by the systems Demos, Tang and Sage in the inner sector, and Bick, Ripp and Wosmo in the outer sector.
Raygon 8 is a large terrestrial planet, roughly 1,7 times the size of Earth, giving it a total area of 867 170 000 square kilometres. Once a lush and green orb full of life, the planet has become an industrialised ecumenopolis without compare. Its population is 60 trillion, with a population density of 100 000 individuals per square kilometre. Granted, one fourth of the planet is dedicated entirely to industrial areas. Due to its complete and utter lack of agricultural land beyond wildly insufficient urban farms, Raygon 8 is entirely dependent on imports to sustain itself.
Raygon 8 is a commercial centre for the entire cluster, being home to a majority of transstellar corporations and a great deal of factories. High availability of low-income workers and industrial space makes Raygon a fantastic manufacturing planet, and several dirtier production processes are outsourced to it. To help with supply, the whole planet is surrounded by a massive space station called the Belt, which, in addition to serving as a tradeport and hangar for all in and outgoing traffic, it also serves as an extended suburb of the main city below.
Life on Raygon 8 is cramped, stressful and rushed. Everything is about money, specifically CryptoCredits (or just credits). Credits are the key to a better house, a better ship, a better life - and even a ticket out. Advertisements boom throughout the streets at all times, and holographics can be seen wherever one looks. The planet is divided into four sectors, as well as three tiers.
Starting with the tiers, every sector, part and street of the ecumenopolis consists of three tiers: The bottom, the centre and the top.
The bottom are considered the slums of Raygon 8. Here, cars are still common, housing is shabby and cheap, and crime and pollution is rampant. Anything not adjusted to life down here will die of either ‘meltylung’ (colloquial nickname for the condition where the corrosive air melts one’s lungs), the corrosive sludge they call sewage or from being murdered in the streets. This part of the city never gets sunlight, and whatever precipitation manages to drip all the way down will be lethally polluted by the time it reaches the ground. Houses are typically old sheds, repurposed storage bays and, for the ‘rich’, very poor apartments. Water, food, oxygen and clothing are provided by local stores owned by the elite, and all services such as water supply at home and electricity are paid through metres which offer a small quota in exchange for a price. Very few can afford it, so even in this day and age, a good number of citizens of Raygon 8 have neither electricity nor water at home. A fair number of the planet’s citizens live down here, though the exact number has never been ascertained. Experts estimate so many as 37% of the planet’s population lives on this level.
The centre is where the majority of citizens live, at least 51%. While it’s not much of an upgrade from the bottom, at least most people here have electricity and water in their homes. The water is at least 99% detoxified and each household is given a ration of 20 litres per day, as well as 30kWh of electricity per day. If any household wants to use more, they will have to fill metres similar to the bottom. However, prices here are much higher than at the bottom, seeing as they already have a free share. This especially affects those who need extra water to survive or electricity to work. Typical housing consists of standard 10 squaremetre apartments with one or more beds and toilet facilities that can be adjusted to suit one’s species. To ask for larger accommodations is quite costly, but anything can be adjusted if the customer can pay. Here, public transport is readily available in the form of flying buses, supersonic trains, metro stations and more. Some apartment buildings even have parking spots, allowing for personal ownership of vehicles, such as rocket scooters, drifters or floaters.
The top is reserved for the lower and middle middle class. They have considerably greater purchasing power, and are even able to afford apartments as large as fifty square metres. Owning a family or personal ship is common, and each apartment comes with a parking spot. Access to public transport is usually very good, though there are a few exceptions on the lower fringes of the tier. Water and electricity access is unlimited and paid monthly rather than by quota. Towards the upper levels, heating and air purification systems are also included in the home, and specialised providers supply the houses with food and drink directly through automatic drone delivery systems.
Then come the four sectors. With the exception of the industrial sector, all the other three contain a vast number of residents in addition to their specialisation. The industrial sector is the only one to not include any formal housing. Each sector takes up an exact fourth of the planet’s surface. Most residents work in the sector they live in, but intersectoral commuting is not uncommon.
The Industrial Sector (nicknamed ‘the Outback’): A quarter of the planet is devoted entirely to receiving, processing, packaging, delivering and documenting all incoming resources not already processed for the planetary market. The area also processes a number of goods that are exported again - roughly half of all production done in Raygon 8’s industrial sector manufactures export wares; the other half is delivered to the commercial sector. The industrial sector is the main source of air pollution on the planet, and not uncommonly do storms rage through the area and bordering sectors.
The Commercial Sector (nicknamed ‘the Oasis’): The commercial sector is home to all business centres, company offices, shopping malls and stock markets. Population here is enormous, and it’s the second largest commuter destination after the industrial sector. Loud advertisements overlap in a terrible capitalistic cacophony and holograms fill every inch of one’s view. The streets light up to take you to the nearest sale, which may be over long before you get there. Many get lost in the Oasis, only to find themselves broke and with a ton of full shopping bags within but a few hours.
The Leisure Sector (nicknamed New Macau): New Macau is a mad house of casinos, bars, leisure parks, strip clubs, brothels and much, much more. It is a sector of great fun and great poverty, sporting the largest population of impoverished citizens on the entire planet, as well as the highest number of alcoholics, drug addicts and criminals. Every manner of sinful business line the streets - speckled in between them are chapels of every religion, old and new, ready to marry you to that lady you met fifteen minutes ago. Like with advertisements, music thunders through the streets - jazz, dubstep, house, rock, folk, whalesong - everything’s there. If you’re looking for a night out, this both is and really isn’t the place to be.
The Cultural Sector (nicknamed Artisan’s Quarter): The Cultural quarter is similar to the leisure quarter, but focuses much more on the ‘civilised’ sides of entertainment. Artisans here create luxury goods for the upper classes and artworks to be admired in the enormous museums scattered throughout the sector. Theatres playing movies of every kind and theatres dedicated entirely to the performing arts come in the sizes large enough to accommodate a million viewers, and street performers line the streets almost like walls. This part of the planet is considered a human suburb to a large degree, due to the concentration of humans.
Aether: Aether is the Petalos homeword, located in the Sage system. Previously considered a backwards jungle world on account of the almost 90% forest and kelp forest coverage, it has since become a centre of technological development within the fields of medicine and biology, spurred on by the locals. It’s today home to several (madly expensive) universities, built into many of the billions of trees across the surface. The planet is extremely colourful and beautiful, but also full of toxic growths and substances.
Oppo: Also known as Demos 4, Oppo is large, rather unremarkable desert planet - or at least it used to be. While it may have started out that way, it has become an essential refueling station for Raygon cargo ships, seeing as the Putts somehow managed to trade to themselves the patent on thorium fuel cells. As such, Oppo has gone from an unremarkable rock to a prosperous tradeport, as well as a production centre for ship fuel.
The Resort: A ‘paradise world’ on one of the moons of Raygon, Raygon 8-1, the Resort has been terraformed to be the perfect haven for the capitalist upper class. Hosting a multitude of fluffy, adorable animals from all around the galaxy, beautiful beaches and trees, and mansions for every resident, the Resort as a whole has a population of only a few million. Entering the atmosphere requires special access codes provided by the corporate government, and any uninvited guests are immediately vaporised in orbit by defensive orbital turrets.
Lil’ Sage: Raygon 8-2, the second moon of the ecumenopolis, is home to a suburb for the upper middle class. With a population of only 11 billion, it is an enormous network of cities and towns constructed underground, safe from the thin atmosphere and meteor strikes. Purchasing a house on Lil’ Sage is extremely expensive, and some residents there have saved for multiple generations to afford it. Most residents commute down to Raygon 8 to work.
Source: Technically a moon around the gas giant Raygon 4, also called Cumulus. Gala-Grid owns the Source and has turned it into a planet-sized factory. Long since devoid of resources, the planet has been hollowed out to sustain thousands of levels of automatic 3D-printer facilities, energy plants, furnaces, assembly lines, storage halls and hangar bays for transport. Imported resources are constantly fed to the hungry industries on and below the surface, and finished goods are exported by millions of tons every day. Several sectors of the planet are rented out to different corporations, but the majority is owned by Gala-Grid. The planet has long since lost the ability to sustain life, and all residents are either machines, androids or wear heavy protection when faring outside into the open.
The entirety of Raygon’s economy is founded on industrialism, mass production, mass consumerism and unending growth. As such, companies are basically free to do whatever they was as long as they don’t violate others’ patents, property rights or NAPs. If those simple requirements can be met, there are no limits on what a company can do to get filthy rich.
The most notable businesses in Raygon can be traced back to the top ten richest companies. Five of them already make up the ruling oligarchy, but there are other ways to acquire profits beyond what these do. In fact, two of the companies on the top ten list are richer than one of the companies in government, but other factors of power still keep them out of the oligarchy. The top ten companies are as follows:
Gala-Grid: (Value: 20 sextillion credits - roughly the estimated price of half of Raygon) Gala-Grid is, without a doubt, the single most powerful company in the nation, perhaps even in the cluster. It oversees the production of all consumer electronics, household appliances, ship parts, personal vehicles, spaceships and so, so much more. The company owns the vast majority of the factory moon Source. While it owns a few asteroid mines, as well, it is entirely dependent on other sources for its resources. Works tightly with Atlas Corp to import rare minerals. Famously employs a huge number of manned and unmanned maintainance ships both on planetary atmospheres and in orbit.
Adamantium Bank: (Value: 12 sextillion credits) The largest bank in the cluster. Adamantium Bank offers loans to everyone from the lowly individual to multistellar companies, often with exponential interests and ruthless mortgage tactics. They just as much respected as they are feared, and everyone in need of money will likely pass by one of their offices some day.
Og’slough Bros. Asteroid Mining: (Value: 9 sextillion credits) Owned by the family of the now passed Raygonian brothers Urpen and Gudoman Og’slough, this asteroid mining company is the largest in the nation, holding the vast majority of bills of property on asteroids passing through and around in every sector. They are adept at what they do, and are keenly aware of their status in the trade. Their services are therefore so expensive that only Gala-Grid can afford to hire them.
Sustynance: (Value: 990 pentillion credits) A massive foodstuffs and daily groceries provider and packager, based on a multitude of agri-worlds and agri-moons throughout the nation. Their stores are everywhere, disguised under brands like Cosmart, 24/7/365, Deli de Galaxica and many more. They also have tight relationships with companies that wish to export food to Raygon, making certain that they get a cut when the foodstuffs cross the border - most importantly Arcadia Corp.
X-Pressure Transstellar Shipping and Cargo: (Value 810 pentillion credits) The largest shipping company in Raygon, X-Pressure handles the vast majority of container transport, commodity delivery and fuel transport. Their staple transport ship is the Model 9 Mawmaw-class freighter, a massive cargo ship with the capacity to carry up to 1 000 000 full containers.
Ten Suns Energy: (Value 670 pentillion credits) The sectoral energy producer. Ten Suns would have been much richer, but sadly, they run a costly business with asteroid miners and foreign powers to acquire thorium and with gas giant miners for hydrogen. Still, they figuratively have a monopoly on electricity provision, at least on Raygon 8, making them incredibly powerful.
Cognito: (Value 200 pentillion credits) A tech and online services super-company behind social media such as PiKtogram and Mi-self, and the poorest company to serve in the oligarchy. They sit on something much more valuable than money, however - information. PiKtogram and Mi-self are cluster-wide, and bar a few exceptions, Cognito can access most users’ personal information. It’s not uncommon for them to use this, especially against competitors.
Cumulus Gas Giant and Asteroid Mining Inc.: (Value 10 pentilion credits) The largest competitor of the Og’slough Bros., Cumulus Inc. doesn’t have the thousands of property rights to asteroids around the sectors - but they possess one crucial bill of ownership: Raygon 4, also known as the gas giant Cumulus. Cumulus is the main source of hydrogen gas in the nation, a key component is particularly Ten Suns’ energy reactors. Some ships also use it as fuel, and it’s crucial in water production. Cumulus is also the planet which the factory moon Source orbits around, so Cumulus Inc. has a considerable edge over the Og’slough Bros. when delivering directly to Gala-Grid.
Prrp & Sterlington Mechanised Arms: (Value 978 quadrillion credits) An arms company out of Urpie (also known as Tang 4), owned by a Simmie and a Gubby named Franklin Sterlington and Prrp respectively. Both are accomplished weapons developers, specialising in mechanised warfare. Their drone models and battle suits are perhaps the most standard weaponry used by the multitude of mercenaries, private armies and bounty hunters in Raygon.
The Astrock Mining and Extraction Company (Astrock): (Value: 969 quadrillion credits) Asteroid mining is a profitable business - incredibly much so. Astrock has managed to rise to the top using more and more sophisticated drones to extract resources, saving themselves great costs from employment. Their income is rising incredibly fast, and their competitors are doing everything they can to put them out of business.
The billions of different cultures packed throughout the entirety of Raygon 8 and its belonging systems would simply be too much to even consider, so much new arrivals on the ecumenopolis make generalised assumptions based on overall traits. These are:
Individualistic: Raygon citizens, as a whole, have a strong belief in their individual rights and freedoms as sovereign citizens, that no state should demand anything of them, and that nothing should be determined by anything other than their own abilities.
Consumerist: Raygon citizens tend to subscribe to the ‘use and dump’-style of living, where they buy products, use them for a short amount of time, and then buy another. Saving is for the poor, and not to consume is almost seen as a crime against the economy.
Competitive: Due to their way of life, Raygon citizens are often forced to be competitive to succeed. This has created a culture where being the best means winning out in life.
Xenophilic (or potentially xenophobic): Most Raygon citizens are so used to seeing new people all the time that they will accept virtually anyone as one of their own, xenos, human or otherwise. However, typical exceptions can be found on the fringe worlds or deep in the bottom tiers, where unemployment and isolation creates impenetrable group communities.
Morally ambiguous: Few Raygon citizens are ever entirely morally just, from the traditional human perspective. They can be altruistic and kind, but will also typically have a gambling addiction, be corrupt or even have killed someone. Everyone’s in some way connected with the local gangsters, too.
Very open to change: Raygon citizens have seen everything, pretty much, so even large changes in society are taken with a shrug.
Capitalist: Accumulation of capital is key to any Raygon citizen’s way of life, and almost everyone has faith in the market as a force that can bring them to greatness one day.
Social Networks: Social networks are essential to surviving the ecumenopolis. Nowhere else can anyone find out how to live, where stuff happens, where to buy things, or even how to communicate with others. There are three core networks, two of them owned by Cognito, the last one owned by a smaller company called OmniWeb.
Mi-self: A personalised blogging site with chat function, shopping function, streaming, entertainment overview, news articles and much, much more. Used as the primary channel of communication between the oligarchy and the people, where the companies on top will frequently post market and customer surveys to probe the general satisfaction level of the public. Mi-self also includes a translator function which automatically translates whatever is said into the user’s language, making the need for language education obsolete.
Wedeo: A video-sharing site as well as Raygon’s primary source of televised news and home entertainment.
PiKtogram: An image-sharing site as well as a chat room and a dating app. Incredibly popular and the source of fame for many celebrities.
Education: Raygon citizens aren’t given much in way of formal education beyond learning to read and write. Every business has a responsibility to train their workers, and since the oligarchy are their own private businesses, they have no reason to provide free education for the citizens. Thus, all education happens through the SmartPad, mass produced screens, tablets or even brain chips chock-full of video-and-sound-recorded lessons in all manner of subjects. Applying for a job requires the applicant to purchase that company’s skill education bundle, of course. Every Raygon household owns at least one of these tablets.
All military is privatised in Raygon, meaning there is technically no standing army nor standing fleet. Instead, private peacekeepers in the form of hired armies, mercenaries, droids or bounty hunter gangs are used in abundance.
Mechanised Forces:
Prrp & Sterlington Model 7B “Bobby” Peacekeeper Mech: A fully autonomous heavy-armed police droid in use across the whole of Raygon. Sporting top-tier facial recognition software, built-in tear gas spray valves, pressure-powered rocket hands and extended battery life, the ‘Bobby’ is the finest example of an officer this side of the Oasis. Also used as medium infantry in battle.
Prrp & Sterlington Model 19A “Big Boy” Assault Walker Mech: Heavy walker cavalry, typically hired to quell uprisings and show intruders off upper class property. This two and a half metre tall walker is entirely autonomous, programmed to obliterate whatever it deems to be a threat to its owner through the use of bullets, flame throwers, missiles, bombs, lasers or simply its ten ton stomp.
Prrp & Sterlington Model 19B "Large Lad" Heavy Assault Walker Mech: Heavier walker cavalry/artillery, typically set to guard key infrastructure from anarchists and labour unions. They stand four metres tall and come armed with shrapnel missiles, miniguns and flamethrowers, as well as powerful shields to brush off counterattacks. They have anti-air capabilities and operate autonomously using the P&S standard, top-tier combat AI.
Prrp & Sterlington Model 5B “Crawly” Light Assault Drone: Light infantry drone, roughly half the height of an average human. Mass produced by the billions and sent to drown the enemy in bullets and metal carcasses. Simple and effective design, though its cognitive capacity is very limited - it targets anything it can see and shoots it with great fury. Keep your distance.
Prrp & Sterlington Model 6A “Bat” Flying Assault Drone: Light flyer drone armed with a machine gun. Like the Crawly, its design is simple at the cost of processing power - it is generally pointed in one direction and will annihilate everything in that direction.
Mercenaries:
The Concubines of Death: A Petalosi band of elite railgunners, specialising in escort and defense missions. They are adept at protecting VIPs and important goods, their kit including personal and placeable force field generators. It’s said they are willing to die for double rates.
SkullCorp: A human company of snipers, specialising in assassinations, sabotage and theft. They are equipped with the laser rifle SP-98, a potent weapon that instantly burns holes through their targets across long distances.
Ruiners: Hit-and-run style shock troopers who specialise in creating chaos on the battlefield. Armed with shock and napalm grenade launchers, plasma rifles, miniguns and chainblades, the Ruiners turn any skirmish into hell on Earth.
Cobalt Cloaks: Qurok bounty hunters that double as mercenaries. They specialise in assassination, stealth and recon, using their specialised invisibility cloaks to keep themselves out of sight. They are armed with deadly kinetic sniper rifles and their bullets are filled with toxins from their home planet of Ripp 3.
Drilldragger Desperados: A gang of Cybes specialising in theft and light arms like pistols and laser rifles. While they aren’t exactly the least criminal gang out there, having robbed their fair share of cargo freighters, they are perfect for sabotaging competitors and the like.
The Silverback Company: A Simmie warband built around the P&S M1212 plasma cannon, a weapon specifically engineered to break enemy fortifications and armoured units. They organise themselves in squads of ten, each divided into teams of five, protecting one plasma cannon each. On each team are three gorilla simmies, clad in power armour with one of them carrying the plasma cannon on its back (the other two usually carry lighter energy weapons); one chimpanzee mechanic/support unit with repair and medical kits; and one orangutan with a long range rifle to cover the team from afar. These squads work together to set up perimetres from which they can blast the enemy off the planet with barrages of plasma.
Ships:
While there are no state-owned ships, every company worth its budget will hire at least one small fleet to escort their cargo freighters or patrol the Jump Gates. These ships come in many shapes, but there are a particular few that stand out.
Peacekeeper July-class Corvette: Standard ship model in employ for the private police forces employed by the oligarchy. Quick, hardy and able to leave a dent in most things, this ship does the best that it can with the tools that it has. It is relatively inexpensive and can be modified to fly autonomously.
Alibaba-class Escort: Heavy destroyer armed with railgun artillery, rockets and laser weaponry. Typically seen escorting Mawmaw-class freighters along the most important trade routes of Raygon.
Nostalgia-class Battleship: Rarely in employ in the inner sector, this ship model frequently serves as hubs for bounty hunters and mercenaries, doubling as taverns and transport. On account of the outdated model, there are few in the employ of the larger corporations, but the richer mercenary bands still use them as bases of operation.
Ram-class Battleship: These ships can only be reasonably afforded by the richest six companies in Raygon, but only Gala-Grid employs them frequently. These juggernauts come armed with tachyon beams that dig through enemy armour and asteroid crusts alike, as well as an arsenal of other weapons and even fighter hangars. There are currently only four in use in Raygon, all of which protect Gala-Grid’s key trade points.
While humanity brought Raygon to heights neveraforeseen, the planet was already an industrial powerhouse by the time they arrived. In the year 319 after the first arc, the Athens arrived in the Raygon system to find to its surprise, an industrial world with a functioning moonbase. They were simple compared to humanity, of course, without any concept of jump gates, hydrogen fusion energy or 3D-printer technology, but the local Raygonian xenos seemed oddly curious towards the humans - surprisingly open, even. In fact, once the lingual barriers were broken down thanks to fantastic advances in interpretation technology, the Raygonians were quick to haggle to themselves pieces of human technology in exchange for land that the humans could settle. Raygon was enormous - much larger than Earth - with a surprisingly acceptable atmosphere, if not a little hotter than home. Humanity quickly established their cities, walled off in the beginning. However, they found after a while that walls were moot, as Raygonians somehow managed to get in all the time and set up shop in abandoned buildings or on the streets. They never seemed angry or jealous of the humans - only interested in trading to as much technology to themselves as they could. The humans began to grow anxious at the trade after a time - some feared the Raygonians were secretly building weapons to wipe them off the planet; others suggested that they were using the technology to improve their industrialised world.
It would seem that those of the latter school were right. The walled off human community watched in awe as the Raygonians, already very skilled in construction, seemingly overnight turned the lush nature into industry and residential areas. When the humans asked what they were doing, it turned out that a great majority of Raygonians actually lived in great poverty in cities underground, and that they had seem humanity live in such tall, prestigious homes. They wanted the same for their own people, so they would build houses for them to receive for free. The humans thought them odd, but couldn’t deny the nobility in their motivation.
When the impoverished Raygonians finally emerged from their pits, humanity saw just how outnumbered they were: The Raygonians were innumerable - they reminded the humans of Earth towards the end of humanity’s reign. They were so many, in fact, that even the great number of skyscrapers constructed over the past years couldn’t house them all. Feeling a great deal of sympathy for them, humanity decided to help them out. Human ships were repurposed to mine asteroids, and whatever technology they had was targeted towards resource extraction. The Raygonians celebrated loudly the support, but it took merely three decades before the effects on the planet and the climate began to show: Increased carbon dioxide levels brought higher temperatures; improvised and at times unregulated industries polluted the environment; overextraction of resources depleted the surrounding areas. Humanity suffered bad cases of déjà vu and attempted to halt the unsustainable expansion, but the Raygonians had gotten a taste for their new lives. They didn’t really have any particular relationship to their planet, anyway - the largest religion on the planet painted Raygon as a world to be conquered; the rest had little to say on that particular point. As such, the planet quickly became a black hole for resources at the expense of the local wildlife. The Raygonians and humans eventually began to use protection gear outside to ward off the hostile elements. Three hundred years after the humans’ arrival, the planet was no longer habitable without artificial protection. A faction of the humans known as the Purists, fed up with the consumerist ways of the Raygonians, began probing the nearby systems for new homes.
However, thought they encountered various new species and civilisations, they would never again find a haven for life like Raygon once had been. The new civilisations soon became targets for the Raygon trade fleet: The capital planet was starved for resources and had to expand fast. Local species were given technology and comfort in exchange for their worlds. Some managed to negotiate special deals, like the Petalos and the Putts, in order to keep their planets mostly safe. Others, however, were not given a choice. The Raygon consumerists swallowed whole planets in only centuries, and their home planet exploded into a multicultural, multispecial centre of commerce, culture and industry. Before long, the whole planet had become one big city - its atmosphere still hostile to most. The Raygonians underwent intense gene alteration surgery to adjust; humanity kept themselves mostly to protective gear and well-insulated housing.
With the growth of commerce, the feeble human and Raygonian democracy quickly fell under the overwhelming might of the corporations. Before long, the corporations simply assumed official power of the whole sector, having held actual power for years already. These congregated to form the Oligarchy, and slowly, but surely, citizens’ income and brand loyalty became as important as their identities. Work became as important as breathing; status in society became a sum of how much rent one could pay; quality was sacrificed to usher in unimaginable quantity. With the whole new factory moon of Source in operation, goods flooded the markets like never before.
Nowadays, Raygon is forever hungry for more resources; disparities grow and grow, the richest not even living on the same planet as 99% of the population; jump gates have been built in multiple systems and are guarded fiercely by private armies. Whatever the Oligarchy commands immediately becomes law as they adjust market prices and stocks to lead the public along. An ever-tighter connected society is bound with no hope of escaping. Raygon now looks outwards from its sector to new customers - who will trade their goods?
Lobutos Zigg: A Raygonian salaryman from the Commercial Sector. A hardworking and hardworked middle-aged man who does his best to provide for his wife and kids in an increasingly tougher everyday life.
Belladonna di Mare: Member of the Board of Directors of Adamantium Bank. She is a ruthlessly calculating and scheming Petalos with one goal in mind: Money.
George Christian Wellsley (G.C.): A Simmie mechanic with a particular love for the flask and gambling. His lifestyle has caused him to rack up a considerable amount of debt, forcing him into a life of crime. He has tight affiliations with the tar pit gangs out on Ripp 7.
”Lord” Zhang Lintao: General Secretary of Gala-Grid. Comes from a long line of industrialists who adore nothing more than to see the numbers rise. Prone to a quick temper and fits of merciless outrage. Lives on the Resort with his family and the rest of the board of directors in the Gala-Grid Enclosure.
Soga Obani: A Cybe-Qurok mercenary recently hired by a mysterious contractor to kill a previous client of his: Arrto “Rex” Og’slough, owner of Og’slough Bros. Asteroid Mining.
The Freemarket Corporate State of Raygon 8, or Raygon.
Capitalist oligarchy. A small minority of extremely rich individuals with multistellar companies oversee the governance of the Raygon systems. They control the majority of the market, and are thus able to govern as much as they want, essentially, adjusting and twisting prices to suit their policies and bend the populace into following, and using market and customer surveys to pick up on democratic participation. The corporations in power shift from time to time depending on their financial situations. The current ones in power are the Og’slough Bros., an asteroid mining conglomerate; Adamantium Bank, the sector’s central bank; Cognito, the tech and online services super-company behind social media such as PiKtogram and Mi-self; Sustynance, a colossal agri-foods provider with almost a monopoly on all trade of edible goods within the nation; and Gala-Grid, an absolutely massive producer of consumer electronics, home appliances, vehicle parts, you name it. Together, these five megacorporations keep the empire afloat by ensuring a loveably stable, yet profitable market for a naïvely suppressed populace.
Raygon, and the planet of Raygon 8 in particular, is an incredibly diverse sector of space, home to as many as seven different species of xenos, with humans making up an eighth.
Humans: While the humans of Raygon themselves are somewhat unremarkable, if not a little stunted by the slightly stronger gravity on Raygon 8, they are undoubtedly one of the most technologically developed species in the nation, bested perhaps by the Petalosi. Typically standing around 170cm on average for males and 162cm for women, they are also among the shortest species in the nation. Their skin colours come in all shades between white and black, and their hair follows a much similar pattern with the addition of reds. Humans make up roughly 16% of the nation’s population and are concentrated on Raygon 8.
Petalos: Humanoid plantoids evolved from a special species of flower from the planet of Aether, located in the Sage system. The planet also goes by the name Sage 3. Petalosi are on average 2 metres tall, both for males and females, and typically come in colours from green to dark blue to purple to red. Their skin has a leaf-like coarseness to it, and while they are described as humanoid, they can grow up to two additional sets of arms and legs in addition to the pairs they are grown with. Petalosi are dependent on three sources of sustenance to survive: Sunlight, water and earth. Unfortunately, what little earth remains on Raygon 8 has long since been polluted to lethal levels, so their food is usually imported from Aether. The atmosphere on Raygon 8 is also incredibly dense at times, making it hard to get sufficient sunlight. As such, Petalos homes come equipped with solarium lamps.
The Petalosi have a natural sense of ingenuity and innovation, fascinated with everything and anything that grows, whether that be plants, lab experiments or numbers on a financial graph. This has made them among the most demanded in the national workforce, taking jobs such as inventors, scientists, engineers, economists and stock brokers. As such, one rarely ever sees a poor Petalos. In many circles, they are the very symbol of success and wealth, and can occasionally suffer hate for it. Petalosi make up 4% of the nation’s population.
Raygonian (or Trrt-oprr in their native tongue): Raygonians are dense in most senses of the word, being stocky, powerfully built and incredibly tough, standing on average 181 centimetres tall for males and 186 for females. Their skin is leathery and at times scaley, their eyes beady, and their mugs mean. However, their minds very bright, especially when it comes to geometry, industry and construction. Raygonians were already far into the space age by the time the first humans arrived, and really, it would be odd if they weren’t. Raygon used to be a resource rich beacon of life, making it perfect for natural industrialists. Raygonians have changed much in the last 700 years, having been forced to genetically alter themselves to adjust to the changing atmosphere of their planet, which by now is near toxic in areas. They are naturally communal, having lived in enormous, hive-like societies for aeons. This comes in handy on Raygon, where the population density is roughly 1 000 000 per square kilometre. Raygonians make up 27% of the nation’s population, existing almost entirely on Raygon.
Putt: Putts come from the fringe desert planet of Demos 4, also known as Oppo. They’re slightly shorter than human males on average, standing on average 167 centimetres for both males and females, sly and business-savvy, hailing from a tiny desert planet where competition, exploitation and opportunism means survival. They are skinny and fragile, however, and make for poor soldiers. No, their speciality comes in the business of trade, them being among the finest salespeople around. It is said that a Putt could sell human food to a petalos. Putts are surprisingly at ease with the Raygon atmosphere, and frequently move around in the streets without protection gear. The Putts make up around 11% of the population.
Simmie: The Simmies would be quite familiar to humans, seeing as they actually came with them. They are chimpanzees, brought along by humanity for experimentation. Eventually exposed to a brain-altering serum, the chimpanzees developed an almost human-like self-conscious and understanding. While they are only 200 years old as a new subgroup of chimpanzees, they possess an almost eerie level of civility, having adopted a great deal of cultural norms from humanity. They still separate themselves in a number of ways, particularly by means of language, which they convey through hand signs and grunts. Simmies commonly work as mechanics, electricians, drone operators and construction workers on account of their agility and dexterity, or as translators when Mi-self Translate is down. Their numbers are few, only making up 2% of the population, and they are concentrated on Raygon.
Qurok: Quroks are enormous humanoids hailing from the outer sector, specifically from Ripp. They have thick, leathery skin in the shade of meaty pink, earlike shapes growing out of their skulls made of bone, and have keen senses of smell. They stand on average 2,3 metres tall for both males and females. Ripp is a savage system, and Ripp 3 is a gruesome place to evolve, being a hellish landscape of toxic swamps, massive predators and an acidic atmosphere. Quroks originally evolved underground, where they formed colonies that would hunt on the surface. They developed enormous lung capacity, a natural resistance to toxic gases, and the ability to seal shut every orifice in their body and protect their eyes with thick layers of biological glass - if not for the cold of space, they would be able to survive by just holding their breath. Once Raygon emissaries reached them and introduced them to technology, the Quroks have taken up work on industrial worlds and space stations, requiring very little oxygen to actually sustain themselves. Given that they only were discovered a little under a century ago, many of their tricks from hunting still remain, and many Quroks take up work as mercenaries and bounty hunters. Quroks make up roughly 9% of the population and are scattered throughout all three sectors.
Gubby: Gubbies are tiny cephalopods with humanoid heads, growing only to be around fifty centimetres long. They hail from the undersea cities of Tang 4 (also known as Urpie), where they’ve lived for aeons without disturbance. However, when their planet was discovered to possess insane amounts of thorium, Raygon corporations soon began to swarm around. It turned out that the Gubbies were not the peaceful squids the planetary surveys suggested, but where instead highly skilled weapons developers. While their underground production facilities were less than stellar in comparison to Raygon industry, the pulverised ships in Urpie’s orbit could not dispute their firepower. Gubbies were immediately contacted with peaceful and cooperative intent and are today the minds behind top-tier companies such as Helios Arms Inc. and CruiserCorp. Gubbies make up a total of 3% of the total population and typically move around in suits when not on their home planet, as they are extremely sensitive to other environments.
Cybe: ‘Cybe’ is the common nickname for any individual composed of at least fifty percent cybernetic enhancements. There come from all manner of species from all around the cluster, but share the trait that they are more machine than living. These can range from half man-half machine to full androids and drones. All are typically employed to do tasks too dangerous for the living, such as deep space maintenance, resource extraction on toxic or radioactive worlds and others. Together, they make up a total of 10% of the population.
Other minorities too small to mention make up the remaining 18% of the population of the sectors.
As the nation’s name implies, the entirety of the state is centred around a single system - Raygon. However, the corporation state’s sphere of influence stretches far beyond the encumenopolis’s home. The whole sphere encompasses a total of seven systems: Raygon as its core, bordered by the systems Demos, Tang and Sage in the inner sector, and Bick, Ripp and Wosmo in the outer sector.
Raygon 8 is a large terrestrial planet, roughly 1,7 times the size of Earth, giving it a total area of 867 170 000 square kilometres. Once a lush and green orb full of life, the planet has become an industrialised ecumenopolis without compare. Its population is 600 trillion, with a population density of 1 000 000 individuals per square kilometre. Granted, one fourth of the planet is dedicated entirely to industrial areas. Due to its complete and utter lack of agricultural land beyond wildly insufficient urban farms, Raygon 8 is entirely dependent on imports to sustain itself.
Raygon 8 is a commercial centre for the entire cluster, being home to a majority of transstellar corporations and a great deal of factories. High availability of low-income workers and industrial space makes Raygon a fantastic manufacturing planet, and several dirtier production processes are outsourced to it. To help with supply, the whole planet is surrounded by a massive space station called the Belt, which, in addition to serving as a tradeport and hangar for all in and outgoing traffic, it also serves as an extended suburb of the main city below.
Life on Raygon 8 is cramped, stressful and rushed. Everything is about money, specifically CryptoCredits (or just credits). Credits are the key to a better house, a better ship, a better life - and even a ticket out. Advertisements boom throughout the streets at all times, and holographics can be seen wherever one looks. The planet is divided into four sectors, as well as three tiers.
Starting with the tiers, every sector, part and street of the ecumenopolis consists of three tiers: The bottom, the centre and the top.
The bottom are considered the slums of Raygon 8. Here, cars are still common, housing is shabby and cheap, and crime and pollution is rampant. Anything not adjusted to life down here will die of either ‘meltylung’ (colloquial nickname for the condition where the corrosive air melts one’s lungs), the corrosive sludge they call sewage or from being murdered in the streets. This part of the city never gets sunlight, and whatever precipitation manages to drip all the way down will be lethally polluted by the time it reaches the ground. Houses are typically old sheds, repurposed storage bays and, for the ‘rich’, very poor apartments. Water, food, oxygen and clothing are provided by local stores owned by the elite, and all services such as water supply at home and electricity are paid through metres which offer a small quota in exchange for a price. Very few can afford it, so even in this day and age, a good number of citizens of Raygon 8 have neither electricity nor water at home. A fair number of the planet’s citizens live down here, though the exact number has never been ascertained. Experts estimate so many as 37% of the planet’s population lives on this level.
The centre is where the majority of citizens live, at least 51%. While it’s not much of an upgrade from the bottom, at least most people here have electricity and water in their homes. The water is at least 99% detoxified and each household is given a ration of 20 litres per day, as well as 30kWh of electricity per day. If any household wants to use more, they will have to fill metres similar to the bottom. However, prices here are much higher than at the bottom, seeing as they already have a free share. This especially affects those who need extra water to survive or electricity to work. Typical housing consists of standard 10 squaremetre apartments with one or more beds and toilet facilities that can be adjusted to suit one’s species. To ask for larger accommodations is quite costly, but anything can be adjusted if the customer can pay. Here, public transport is readily available in the form of flying buses, supersonic trains, metro stations and more. Some apartment buildings even have parking spots, allowing for personal ownership of vehicles, such as rocket scooters, drifters or floaters.
The top is reserved for the lower and middle middle class. They have considerably greater purchasing power, and are even able to afford apartments as large as fifty square metres. Owning a family or personal ship is common, and each apartment comes with a parking spot. Access to public transport is usually very good, though there are a few exceptions on the lower fringes of the tier. Water and electricity access is unlimited and paid monthly rather than by quota. Towards the upper levels, heating and air purification systems are also included in the home, and specialised providers supply the houses with food and drink directly through automatic drone delivery systems.
Then come the four sectors. With the exception of the industrial sector, all the other three contain a vast number of residents in addition to their specialisation. The industrial sector is the only one to not include any formal housing. Each sector takes up an exact fourth of the planet’s surface. Most residents work in the sector they live in, but intersectoral commuting is not uncommon.
The Industrial Sector (nicknamed ‘the Outback’): A quarter of the planet is devoted entirely to receiving, processing, packaging, delivering and documenting all incoming resources not already processed for the planetary market. The area also processes a number of goods that are exported again - roughly half of all production done in Raygon 8’s industrial sector manufactures export wares; the other half is delivered to the commercial sector. The industrial sector is the main source of air pollution on the planet, and not uncommonly do storms rage through the area and bordering sectors.
The Commercial Sector (nicknamed ‘the Oasis’): The commercial sector is home to all business centres, company offices, shopping malls and stock markets. Population here is enormous, and it’s the second largest commuter destination after the industrial sector. Loud advertisements overlap in a terrible capitalistic cacophony and holograms fill every inch of one’s view. The streets light up to take you to the nearest sale, which may be over long before you get there. Many get lost in the Oasis, only to find themselves broke and with a ton of full shopping bags within but a few hours.
The Leisure Sector (nicknamed New Macau): New Macau is a mad house of casinos, bars, leisure parks, strip clubs, brothels and much, much more. It is a sector of great fun and great poverty, sporting the largest population of impoverished citizens on the entire planet, as well as the highest number of alcoholics, drug addicts and criminals. Every manner of sinful business line the streets - speckled in between them are chapels of every religion, old and new, ready to marry you to that lady you met fifteen minutes ago. Like with advertisements, music thunders through the streets - jazz, dubstep, house, rock, folk, whalesong - everything’s there. If you’re looking for a night out, this both is and really isn’t the place to be.
The Cultural Sector (nicknamed Artisan’s Quarter): The Cultural quarter is similar to the leisure quarter, but focuses much more on the ‘civilised’ sides of entertainment. Artisans here create luxury goods for the upper classes and artworks to be admired in the enormous museums scattered throughout the sector. Theatres playing movies of every kind and theatres dedicated entirely to the performing arts come in the sizes large enough to accommodate a million viewers, and street performers line the streets almost like walls. This part of the planet is considered a human suburb to a large degree, due to the concentration of humans.
Aether: Aether is the Petalos homeword, located in the Sage system. Previously considered a backwards jungle world on account of the almost 90% forest and kelp forest coverage, it has since become a centre of technological development within the fields of medicine and biology, spurred on by the locals. It’s today home to several (madly expensive) universities, built into many of the billions of trees across the surface. The planet is extremely colourful and beautiful, but also full of toxic growths and substances.
Oppo: Also known as Demos 4, Oppo is large, rather unremarkable desert planet - or at least it used to be. While it may have started out that way, it has become an essential refueling station for Raygon cargo ships, seeing as the Putts somehow managed to trade to themselves the patent on thorium fuel cells. As such, Oppo has gone from an unremarkable rock to a prosperous tradeport, as well as a production centre for ship fuel.
The Resort: A ‘paradise world’ on one of the moons of Raygon, Raygon 8-1, the Resort has been terraformed to be the perfect haven for the capitalist upper class. Hosting a multitude of fluffy, adorable animals from all around the galaxy, beautiful beaches and trees, and mansions for every resident, the Resort as a whole has a population of only a few million. Entering the atmosphere requires special access codes provided by the corporate government, and any uninvited guests are immediately vaporised in orbit by defensive orbital turrets.
Lil’ Sage: Raygon 8-2, the second moon of the ecumenopolis, is home to a suburb for the upper middle class. With a population of only 11 billion, it is an enormous network of cities and towns constructed underground, safe from the thin atmosphere and meteor strikes. Purchasing a house on Lil’ Sage is extremely expensive, and some residents there have saved for multiple generations to afford it. Most residents commute down to Raygon 8 to work.
Source: Technically a moon around the gas giant Raygon 4, also called Cumulus. Gala-Grid owns the Source and has turned it into a planet-sized factory. Long since devoid of resources, the planet has been hollowed out to sustain thousands of levels of automatic 3D-printer facilities, energy plants, furnaces, assembly lines, storage halls and hangar bays for transport. Imported resources are constantly fed to the hungry industries on and below the surface, and finished goods are exported by millions of tons every day. Several sectors of the planet are rented out to different corporations, but the majority is owned by Gala-Grid. The planet has long since lost the ability to sustain life, and all residents are either machines, androids or wear heavy protection when faring outside into the open.
The entirety of Raygon’s economy is founded on industrialism, mass production, mass consumerism and unending growth. As such, companies are basically free to do whatever they was as long as they don’t violate others’ patents, property rights or NAPs. If those simple requirements can be met, there are no limits on what a company can do to get filthy rich.
The most notable businesses in Raygon can be traced back to the top ten richest companies. Five of them already make up the ruling oligarchy, but there are other ways to acquire profits beyond what these do. In fact, two of the companies on the top ten list are richer than one of the companies in government, but other factors of power still keep them out of the oligarchy. The top ten companies are as follows:
Gala-Grid: (Value: 20 sextillion credits - roughly the estimated price of half of Raygon) Gala-Grid is, without a doubt, the single most powerful company in the nation, perhaps even in the cluster. It oversees the production of all consumer electronics, household appliances, ship parts, personal vehicles, spaceships and so, so much more. The company owns the vast majority of the factory moon Source. While it owns a few asteroid mines, as well, it is entirely dependent on other sources for its resources.
Adamantium Bank: (Value: 12 sextillion credits) The largest bank in the cluster. Adamantium Bank offers loans to everyone from the lowly individual to multistellar companies, often with exponential interests and ruthless mortgage tactics. They just as much respected as they are feared, and everyone in need of money will likely pass by one of their offices some day.
Og’slough Bros. Asteroid Mining: (Value: 9 sextillion credits) Owned by the family of the now passed Raygonian brothers Urpen and Gudoman Og’slough, this asteroid mining company is the largest in the nation, holding the vast majority of bills of property on asteroids passing through and around in every sector. They are adept at what they do, and are keenly aware of their status in the trade. Their services are therefore so expensive that only Gala-Grid can afford to hire them.
Sustynance: (Value: 990 pentillion credits) A massive foodstuffs and daily groceries provider and packager, based on a multitude of agri-worlds and agri-moons throughout the nation. Their stores are everywhere, disguised under brands like Cosmart, 24/7/365, Deli de Galaxica and many more. They also have tight relationships with companies that wish to export food to Raygon, making certain that they get a cut when the foodstuffs cross the border.
X-Pressure Transstellar Shipping and Cargo: (Value 810 pentillion credits) The largest shipping company in Raygon, X-Pressure handles the vast majority of container transport, commodity delivery and fuel transport. Their staple transport ship is the Model 9 Mawmaw-class freighter, a massive cargo ship with the capacity to carry up to 1 000 000 full containers.
Ten Suns Energy: (Value 670 pentillion credits) The sectoral energy producer. Ten Suns would have been much richer, but sadly, they run a costly business with asteroid miners and foreign powers to acquire thorium and with gas giant miners for hydrogen. Still, they figuratively have a monopoly on electricity provision, at least on Raygon 8, making them incredibly powerful.
Cognito: (Value 200 pentillion credits) A tech and online services super-company behind social media such as PiKtogram and Mi-self, and the poorest company to serve in the oligarchy. They sit on something much more valuable than money, however - information. PiKtogram and Mi-self are cluster-wide, and bar a few exceptions, Cognito can access most users’ personal information. It’s not uncommon for them to use this, especially against competitors.
Cumulus Gas Giant and Asteroid Mining Inc.: (Value 10 pentilion credits) The largest competitor of the Og’slough Bros., Cumulus Inc. doesn’t have the thousands of property rights to asteroids around the sectors - but they possess one crucial bill of ownership: Raygon 4, also known as the gas giant Cumulus. Cumulus is the main source of hydrogen gas in the nation, a key component is particularly Ten Suns’ energy reactors. Some ships also use it as fuel, and it’s crucial in water production. Cumulus is also the planet which the factory moon Source orbits around, so Cumulus Inc. has a considerable edge over the Og’slough Bros. when delivering directly to Gala-Grid.
Franklin & Prrp Mechanised Arms: (Value 978 quadrillion credits) An arms company out of Urpie (also known as Tang 4), owned by a Simmie and a Gubby named Franklin Sterlington and Prrp respectively. Both are accomplished weapons developers, specialising in mechanised warfare. Their drone models and battle suits are perhaps the most standard weaponry used by the multitude of mercenaries, private armies and bounty hunters in Raygon.
The Astrock Mining and Extraction Company (Astrock): (Value: 969 quadrillion credits) Asteroid mining is a profitable business - incredibly much so. Astrock has managed to rise to the top using more and more sophisticated drones to extract resources, saving themselves great costs from employment. Their income is rising incredibly fast, and their competitors are doing everything they can to put them out of business.
Mi-self: Facebook mixed with LinkedIn
PiKtogram: Instagram mixed with Snapchat.
Humanity arrives late. Raygon was already an post-industrialised spaceport by the time they arrived.
We’re introduced to Sun On-Yee, a rookie in the Tiger’s Fang triads. He is tasked with spying on some merchant to gather information that can be exploited. However, he’s not very good at it, and is spotted before the merchants drop any juicy details. Defeated, On-Yee heads towards his boss’s office. On the way, he is mugged by three thieves, off of whom he beats up. He gets into the office and is scolded for his insolence. Later, he and a pal head to the bar, chatting along the way.
Central marketplace of Midta, provincial capital of Midland, Eastern Gu-Wei...
“The marketplace’s louder than usual.”
“Oh yeah, didn’cha hear? There’s apparently a musterin’ goin’ on. Heard they was heading out west.”
It hadn’t even been a month. It was insane, really, how slow time went by when exposed to the new. Yet… Here he was - a nameless thug off the streets of Midta, not even a bei to his name, dropping eaves at the request of the kings of this city.
“Out west? Grandpa’s coffin, has there been another raid? I swear, it’s been happening every year now.” The distant spice merchant put his face in his paprika-dusted hands, leaving his brow a rusty red. “If the supply is cut, I’ll have to close down shop.”
“Nah, doubt it’s a raid this time - they can usually handle those. Still, I’m askin’ around for local farmers who grow rice. I’ll be damned if I’m switchin’ to millet this time’a year.”
Behind the grain merchant, in a dank alley of the marketplace where one would think the worst of scum was crawling, a silhouette added to the already abundant shadows. Young and deceptively scrawny, it was - human, awfully so. Black hair dressed his dark scalp, and on account of his rank, he wore little less than baggy, patchy linen shorts and an equally ragged tunic - he looked about as insignificant as he was.
“At least you have the option. What am -I- supposed to do? Use spice as currency?”
“Is any of that even yours, anyway?” the grain merchant chuckled and the spice merchant looked away.
“Let’s not delve any deeper into this, alright? They might hear.” Shifty eyes scanned the stalls’ surroundings and the scrawny human youngster squatted down, extended forth a hand holding a cup and bent his head. When the merchants’ eyes fell upon him, all they saw was a beggar.
Still, it was a poor disguise in the face of Middling veterans. Before he had the chance to look back, the scrawny lad could already that the merchants weren’t going to talk anymore that day. Eventually, he faced reality and stood up, disappearing into the darkness of the alley.
Hearsay, yes - information - was the greatest resource on the market; neither spice, silk nor gold could outbid it. Living as a fly on the wall could potentially make you richer than a merchant lord. To hear that little slip of the tongue - an unpaid debt, an unfavoured competitor, a fear of walking alone at night - all could be prospected and exploited like a Shajiang gem deposit.
That was what Sun On-Yee hoped he could have done, anyway, but now it seemed that he would go hungry another night. He groaned to himself - Alsamsan would likely scold him for his uselessness tonight. He could already hear it: “dog”, “leech”, “flea” - the usual treatment expected from a Lesser Pillar.
The unswept corridors between towering shops and houses carried him past beggars, pipeweed addicts, thugs of rival factions and other types On-Yee felt no need to interact with. While he hadn’t been living this live for very long, the inhabitants of the shadows had learned not to stare for too long.
Well, most of them.
“Oi!”
On-Yee’s quick pace slowed. Behind his back, he heard ragged soles slap against moist cobblestone littered with pools of urine. A hand like a boulder, down three fingers, did its best to grasp On-Yee’s shoulder tightly and spin him around. Without too much of a struggle, On-Yee complied and turned to face a mug with resemblance to a beat pulled fresh out of the ground: It was unnaturally red, dirty and covered with unsavoury growths. Another hand appeared between them and assumed a beckoning motion.
“Cough it up, son,” said the thief. Sun On-Yee smacked his lips sharply and spat on the ground between them.
“Cough up what?”
“Whatever you’ve got - unless you’d like to sleep in the gutter for the night.” The beckoning hand became a thick fist. From behind him appeared a pair of forward-leaning, skinnier scoundrels armed with what looked to be shivs. On-Yee grimaced - of course even this lump had friends.
“Look, I’ve got nothing - look at me, I’m not even worth selling to the Snaketongues!”
“The Snuh--... What’s that? You know something?” the fat thief asked. Oh, perfect, the bluff fell flat.
“Slavers, mate,” one of the scrawny ones said helpfully and ran a dirty rag over the somehow dirtier edge of his shiv. “Though I reckon they’d take anyone - even a shrimp like this. Might not pay handsomely for him, but bei is bei.”
“Bei is bei,” the other skinny one agreed. The fat one’s grip tightened, his two fingers digging into On-Yee’s shoulder.
“Bei is bei,” the fat one agreed with a smirk. “You’re coming with us, son--UGH!”
The thief keeled forward as On-Yee planted a powerful kick in his crotch long before he could react. On-Yee tossed himself forward, causing one of the scrawny ones’ strikes to stab the fat one’s arm instead, eliciting a squeal. On-Yee rolled to his feet just in time to toss himself backward to dodge a swipe from the third one; he then dodged another, grabbed a stool from a small food stall nearby and swung it as hard as he could. The thief, overcommitted to a forward lunge, had no way of ducking away. The first strike dazed; the second knocked out a number of teeth; the third left him squirming weakly on the cobblestones.
“Argh!”
“Mate, I’m so, so sorry, I--!” The fat one slapped the second scrawny.
“Go kill him, you daft shit! Ugh!” Leaving the fat one to nuzzle his bleeding arm, the second scrawny gulped and slowly approached On-Yee with quivering steps. They had assembled quite a crowd now, all denizens of the alley peeking out of their homes or gathering in the streets to cheer on the spectacle. On-Yee smirked cruelly, squeezing his grip tighter around the stool he had taken as a weapon. His opponent appeared frozen, and On-Yee seized that opportunity to arm himself with the knocked-out thief’s shiv. His opponent hesitated even more now, but eventually lunged. The strike was undisciplined and desperate, adequate in speed and strength, but lacking in accuracy. It flew wide, right past On-Yee, leaving the knife’s owner to the fate of an incoming slam with a stool. The strike hammered him to the ground, from which he immediately tried to rise. On-Yee gave him not a second of peace, slicing at the back of his shins with the shiv. The thief squealed and howled in unison with the cheer of the crowds, but before On-Yee could finish him off, the fat one grabbed him from behind and lifted him up before tossing him to the ground again. The fall knocked the air out of On-Yee and he dropped the stool. The fat one placed his foot on On-Yee’s ribcage, but just before he could press his weight down and break it, On-Yee dug the shiv he still held deep into the thief’s thigh. The fat one once more squealed and skipped backwards before falling over and knocking himself out on the cobblestone.
The crowds exploded into loud applause. On-Yee slowly got to his feet and winced. Seems that the fat one had managed to break a rib after all. He dabbed a moist spot on the back of his head. He looked at his fingertips and found them red. He looked down and noticed his head had landed right next to a slightly protruding cobblestone - a little more to the left and it could’ve been the end of him. He swallowed and whispered a silent prayer to his unnamed ancestors before giving the thieves a glare. He shrugged to himself and began looting their pockets. The one still conscious dared not do anything other than lie still and pray he wouldn’t bleed out. In the end, On-Yee found little more than a few bent coins and mouldy jerky. He pulled the mould off the jerky and gave it a half-hearted chew, then a wholehearted one as he realised it was tougher than expected. With lunch secured, he went on his way.
The endless alleys eventually became a two-floored shack, in front of which was a suspiciously empty lot that told anyone too curious to approach to turn right back around. On-Yee gave the angles over his shoulders each a quick glance before approaching the shack’s door, which, by the way, was much too fancy in comparison to the walls around it. He gave the door three knocks, a kick and then another knocks. A slot slid to the side slightly above the centre and revealed a pair of squinting, dark eyes complemented by darker skin.
“Crouching tiger...” came a stern voice. On-Yee groaned.
“Gemlosan, it’s me! C’mon, it’s been a month, can’t we drop--”
“Crouching tiger…?” On-Yee rolled his eyes.
“... Hidden dragon.”
The door gave a tired groan as it slowly swung inwards, revealing a tall man with a mean mug and roughly a hundred and fifty jin of muscle to back that up. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
On-Yee huffed. “How much longer until you trust me, huh?”
Gemlosan scowled. “Way longer than a month, kid. Now get in.” The man slapped On-Yee inside and shut the door behind him. Inside, three teens about On-Yee’s age sat squatting around a small fire, watching the slow broil of a skimpy trout on a simple gridiron. In the corner upon a small stool sat a one-eyed muckling, scowling harshly at everything in the room. The floor was unswept cobblestone - one would think one never had left the streets; the walls had seen better days, but at least the scent of mould had grown familiar; the roof keeled slightly downwards at the centre. All in all, with the exception of the door, the word shack fit perfectly when describing this sorry excuse for a building. Another two doorways led out of the room: One doorway draped in a curtain of threaded beads, above which hung a sign labeled “To the restaurant”, and another door, this one of plain wood with no label. The three lads gave On-Yee greeting nods, which he returned. Another slap pushed the boy forward and he shot Gemlosan a glare.
“What? What?!”
“Boss wanted to see ya.”
On-Yee huffed. “Couldn’t you just’ve said that? I know where he is.”
Gemlosan flared his nostrils, a smirk revealing itself. “Do ya now?”
On-Yee blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’re you getting at?”
The tall man tapped his temple smugly. “Let’s just say that you haven’t been the only one out spyin’ today. Enjoy your chat with the boss now.” With a deep giggle, he shuffled off through the doorway draped with the bead curtain. On-Yee swallowed and looked behind him towards the wooden door. He first stepped over to a basin of somewhat smelly water. He dabbed a piece of cloth in the water and began cleaning his wounds, then wrapped his ribs in a roll of linen. He dipped his hands into the water, rubbed his face clean and cleaned out his nostrils. He tugged his tunic until it looked somewhat presentable and patted his pants. As he grabbed the door handle, one of the lads around the fire said, “Good luck, bro Sun.”
On-Yee stopped and looked at him, eventually smiling half-heartedly back. He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was dark, windowless. The only source of light was a single lamp left on the floor, valiantly making a stand against the overwhelming shadow. Squinting, On-Yee could barely see the outline of a pair of legs seated not too far away from the lamp, most likely in a seiza position.
“Approach, Sun On-Yee.”
On-Yee swallowed again. Slowly, he made his way over, his feet feeling a number of obstacles littering the floor. Avoiding them to the best of his ability, he eventually found a spot opposite of the outline to sit down. A hand dimmed the lamp’s already weak flame and On-Yee’s eyes eventually adjusted: The outline was weak, but it was evidently bearded and wildly uncombed, topped with the broad, bulbous hat of a Middling merchant. The clothes appeared baggy, but no details of their colours were revealed in the darkness. A while passed before the voice spoke, “Your failure at the marketplace. Explain.”
On-Yee frowned. “W-well, I…”
“Your spot was completely out in the open.”
“I was in an alley, I--!”
“Did you hide behind any clutter?”
“N-no…”
“A wall, then, perhaps?”
“I-I tried, but the angle was wrong…” On-Yee felt himself begin to sweat.
“Ah, I see, you thought you could trick them into believing you were just some innocent, loitering thug minding his own business, hmm? Is that it?”
On-Yee didn’t answer. The voice drew a long, disappointed breath. “Sun On-Yee, the merchants who fall for that trick man no stall in Midta. If that’s the manner of behaviour you classify as stealth, then you will pack whatever garbage you own and leave for Bast or some other gullible riverland city tonight, is that clear?”
On-Yee cleared his throat. “Y-yes, sir.”
“What was that?”
“Y-yes, master Alsamsan.”
“That’s better. Don’t think that you are anything special just because the Lion took pity on you. You are a dog, do you understand? A flea, to be scratched off the skin of greater men.”
On-Yee clenched his fists. A bubbling fury was roaring within him, with no valve for release. The insults kept hammering at his soul like a shower of stone. He never felt he had had time to build up a considerable sense of pride yet, but what he had was being pressured to the point of weapon’s grade hardness.
Yet to lash out against a superiour would mean his death, and he was certain nothing would please Alsamsan more than to leave his butchered corpse in the gutter.
“A month has passed, maggot,” the shadow snapped. “A month has passed and you cannot even drop eaves properly…”
“With all due respect, master Alsamsan, I am not a spy - I’m a fighter and--!”
“Oh yes, a fighter - exactly what made you so precious to the Lion to begin with! He must’ve seen a sweet little cub in you - meant to one day grow into the fiercest beast in all of the triads. Well, think again, you leech, for he placed you with -me-, and that means you’re on spy duty.”
The watery trickle of something foul-smelling dropped into an unseen cup and Alsamsan drew another breath. “That will be all, Sun On-Yee. You’re going to the docks tomorrow. If you can’t get me anything of value, then you can leave your little finger on your way out.”
On-Yee swallowed nervously. Wordlessly, he bowed his head and went back to the door. Once he was on the other side, he leaned up against the wall next to it and slid down into a squat. He groaned and buried his face in a palm.
“Shit, what’d you do to piss him off that bad?” came a voice. On-Yee looked up to see the grinning face of Fabonsan Yogmir. At least there was some joy in this world - not even the suffering of the streets could sap the joy from that smile. On-Yee couldn’t help but smile back, even if the effort was weak.
“I dunno. Maybe he was in a bad mood already?”
“Sunny, the day Alsamsan isn’t in a bad mood is the day the Midland Sea will swallow the world and the mucklings will kill us all.” He held out a flat palm to the muckling in the corner. “No offense, by the way.”
A gurgling croak was all the response they got, but the muckling’s expression seemed to indicate that it was rather used to being described as a lowly savage. It returned to polishing an unproportionately long knife, the motion making On-Yee a little nervous. Fabonsan clapped him playfully on the cheek to regain his attention.
“So, what’d he tell ya?”
On-Yee hesitated. “W-well… He said that, uh… He said that if I fail to get anymore information, I’ll be out of the triads.”
“Down one finger?”
On-Yee flexed a held-up pinkie. “Down one finger.”
“Yikes… Someone needs to get that guy a sense of humour - and maybe a night with Fasurdor or someone. Man doesn’t get out enough.”
On-Yee giggled quietly. “Shit, man, don’t say that kinda nonsense when I just got out of a bad scolding, a’ight?”
Fabonsan nudged him lightly in the side. “Oh please, if I wanted to get us in trouble, I’D SPEAK A LITTLE LOUDER ABOUT ALSAMSAN’S NEED TO--!”
“SSH!” On-Yee demanded and covered Fabonsan’s mouth, unable to stop cackling to himself. There was silence, save for the three lads grilling their trout and the muckling’s sharp tugs of cloth over metal. Then came an approaching sound from behind the wooden door. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at one another before they sprinted into the restaurant behind the curtained doorway.
The restaurant was abuzz with activity, the majority of the clientele being the unsavoury type - a bit like they themselves were: They all had at least one sharp object on their hips; their eyes looked as though they had seen a thousand battles and their fingers, a hundred thousand purses; and speaking of fingers, the average number of fingers per two hands appeared to be roughly around nine. Ducking and dodging their way between tables and occupied stools eventually brought the pair to the doorway, which, too, was curtained with beads on string. They exited into the open streets of Midta, Carpenter’s Lane, and drew deep, panting breaths. The crowds around them quickly lost interest for why two young men suddenly had burst out of a humble noodle restaurant, and went about their days. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at each other and snickered.
“You ass. I’d be dead if he’d come after us.”
“Pfft. He never leaves his room - like he’d chase down a pair of rookies over some banter. Come on, let’s get a drink. The Drunken Muckling should be opening now.”
“Huh, so it should,” On-Yee agreed and followed Fabonsan down the street. Lining the road sat a number of beggars, human and muckling, side-by-side. A muckling sage was chanting in their guttural tongue, the beauty of the melody wasted on human ears. In its hands, the muckling rubbed pieces of bone. On-Yee frowned curiously at the creature before Fabonsan pulled him along.
“Don’t stare too hard, Sunny - auguring Mucklings ain’t nothing to stare.”
“Auguring?”
Fabonsan nodded. “My ma used to say the Mucklings got this special sight they can use when they talk to their gods. Lets them see what’s yet to come. However, if you distract them, they’ll look at you, and they’ll see how you die. Then, they’ll tell you.”
On-Yee looked back. The Muckling sage’s eyes were fixed firmly on the bones, though he could feel that, somehow, it was glaring fiercely at him.
"By the way, how's your back?" Fabonsan asked.
"Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, it stings a bit still." As if to prove the point, On-Yee rubbed one of his shoulders.
"That's normal. The ink needs time to settle and grow familiar with your body. You want it to sit, after all. What’d you pick?”
“Huh?”
“What motif, dumby! What’d you pick?”
“Oh, uh… A tiger.”
Fabonsan gave him a frown, then a long, drawn-out, monotonous hum. On-Yee blinked.
“What?”
“No, it’s just… Not very, uh… Original, ‘s all.”
On-Yee huffed. “What do you mean? It’s the animal of the triads!”
“Uh, yeah! Exactly. Wow, you actually went with--... Is it because of the Lion? Are you going to be the Lion’s Tiger, is that it?”
On-Yee blushed so much that a pair of bypassing ladies giggled at him. “N-no! ‘Course not! It’s just--... I really like tigers! They’re strong, fierce, beautiful.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Fabonsan replied and sighed. “Ugh, here I was hoping you’d pick something more… Personal. Something other than the actual animal of the triads. You could’ve been the Shark, or, or… The elephant!”
“There’s already an elephant, though,” On-Yee protested.
“Yeah, but for every elephant, I can guarantee you that there are twenty tigers.”
On-Yee rolled his eyes. “Ugh… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d actually pick a tiger! Well, either way, now you’ve gotta live with it. Look on the bright side - the Lion may have a soft spot for clichés?”
On-Yee rubbed his eyes and groaned. Fabonsan patted him supportively on the shoulder. “D’aaw, cheer up, Sunny. We’re here.” On-yee looked up to see the red doors of the Drunken Muckling winehouse, the outside littered as usual with drunkards and vomit and drunkards in vomit. On-Yee took in the smell and cringed. Oh yeah, this was familiar.
“You’re buying the first round, right?” Fabonsan asked with a grin.
“Wait, why?”
“‘Cause you’re the one that got scolded, of course. Loser buys drinks.”
On-Yee frowned. “I didn’t know this was a competition.”
A lake- and riverfaring empire with a long history situated south of the Midland Sea.
The imperial family and the court are mostly comprised of Elves, with a few lower positions being held by humans and, in the southern settlements, draconians. The most populated areas of the empire, the riverlands and lakelands, are home to mainly humans and mucklings.
Gu-Wei is a hereditary empire that claims to trace its heritage all the way back to ancient Muha.
Their proximity to and mastery of the lake and its rivers makes them an able trading empire. The state is dependent on the grain, fish and fabric trade for its income. The currency used is the gu-weian bei, small metal shards with holes in the centre.
The nation speaks a multitude of languages with no standardisation efforts beyond the requirement to speak guanyan, or ‘official speak’, when applying for a position at court. The written word is known as guwen and is largely standardised in the governmental positions. Guanyan is also being used by traders as a lingua franca.
Population: 14 million with a total army size of 210 000 professional soldiers.
Wealth: Rich, but disparities are considerable.
Espionage: Poor.
Elves (Huangzu): A ruling minority of elves claiming to descend for the nobles of Muhakim. They are typically tall and fair of skin, naturally lean and almost enchantingly beautiful. The Huangzu elves hold all upper positions of government, including the position as the royal family. Their numbers are few, however, and what little their supposed heritage knew about magic has long since been watered out of the bloodline. Today, this ruling minority suffers a multitude of issues related to inbreeding and mind-sicknesses. An emperor akin to those from the olden days has not been seen for centuries.
Elves (Puzu): A larger group of peasant and gentry elves that hold smaller areas of land around the capital. Physically, they are quite similar to the Huangzu, with the exception of typically more colour variations of the skin, shorter ears and more rugged features. These are considered noble enough to hold lower positions of government, with the worthiest even being allowed to serve at the royal courts. However, interbreeding between the huangzu and puzu is considered taboo.
Humans (Renzu): The decisively largest single group in the empire, though its internal diversity is much greater than what government reports would have the emperor believe. The renzu is actually comprised of four smaller ethnic groups of humans found throughout the riverlands, lakelands and forests. In their own tongues, there are:
The Jianger-Kaan: Once a loose coalition of river tribes in the western wetlands, the Jianger-Kaan now make up a sizeable portion of the Gu-Wei population. Their homeland, the Guokou riverlands, are among the most fertile areas of the entire empire, and are thus simultaneously the most raided and most well-guarded area of the country. The Jianger-Kaan are themselves varied within, with skin and hair colour ranging from bronze to black, generally hard-worked and stocky builds, and close ties to the local water buffalo. Due to their importance to the empire as a whole, the Jianger-Kaan are well respected even among the elves, and are allowed a great deal of autonomy.
The Middlings: This group of humans are native to the lakelands, and have a presence all around the Midland Sea; however, only a few clans actually swear fealty to the Gu-Weian emperor. They aren’t as numerous as the Jianger-Kaan, but what they lack in numbers, they make up for in tradeskills, particularly in shipscraft and fishnet spinning. They known the lake and its rivers well, and also make up the bulk of the empire’s trading fleet. However, they are often disliked by the nobility for being opportunistic and profiteering, and typically suffer discrimination as a result. The Middlings typically have bronze or golden skin and black hair, and the males often grow long facial hair.
The Druïtha: Native to the thick forests of the central empire, the Druïtha are a simple group of various woodland tribes. Their culture has heavy elements of nature worship and emphasis on an ascetic lifestyle. While they more than often present a barrier for expansionist governors seeking to prospect for natural resources in the many sacred groves, the Druïtha have made themselves invaluable to the empire by sharing their secrets of silk production. While the people themselves are typically superstitious and easily aggravated, their skill in fabrics production has made the empire incredibly rich. Therefore, they are allowed great freedom of religion, movement and rights. The Druïtha are typically pale and rugged in appearance, with scars and tattoos covering their bodies.
The Esterlings: This group of humans are native to the eastern lakelands, riverlands and forests. They are a hardy, strong folk, with mainly bronze and black skin. Most of the males are bald and have large beards, while the females have hair of chestnut or black colours. Culturally, the Esterlings are stubborn and competitive of nature, putting their lives into their trades as blacksmiths, lumberers and farmers. Historically, the Esterlings have manned the economic powerhouse of the empire, the iron sludge forge towns, and are also responsible for some of the largest rebellions throughout history. They have a tense relationship with the elves, and their oral traditions hone their memory for when the elves cross the line next.
Mucklings (Xiongzu, or ôck-li’yoch): The mucklings are a beastfolk native to the Midland Sea. They are short-statured, stocky, frog-like humanoids that dwell on the border between land and water. Due to their ugliness, odd tongue and uncivilised way of life, these are often employed as slaves by the Middlings and lakeland governors. They begin life as tadpoles in the lake and grow throughout a five year period until reaching the humanoid stage, at which point they take on an amphibian lifestyle, hunting on land as well as underwater. Unless enslaves, they typically live in small villages on the lake and river banks and go about their days without much interference. While generally territorial and aggressive, they can rarely compete with the superior weaponry and armour of the imperial army. In the harbour cities, the mucklings often live in terrible slums. Much of their culture has been destroyed in the past centuries, but they have a deep-rooted shamanistic religion that centres around the tribe priest and the cycles of life and death and the tides.
Draconians (Longzu): Found primarily in the south, the diverse draconians make up a small minority in the overall population of the empire. However, due to the proximity of the Tsorodar Empire, draconians are often selected for positions of governorship in the south to keep relations warm, the pool of candidates primarily consisting of Bozak draconians. Draconians enjoy a decent rank among the citizens of the empire, often being employed as soldiers, pit fighters or hunters. As the Gu-Wei empire has no fixed caste system, Da’Covele runaways are sometimes caught on the border. While most of these are sent home to the Tsorodar empire to be executed, a fair number make it past the border unseen to start new lives in the less controlled areas of the empire.
According to the Imperial Doctrine (Year 757)…
A thousand years ago, the Muha emperor’s concubine, Sha-laxas Itha, pregnant with her firstborn son, was sent away, far away, to escape the danger of the rampant hordes of wickedness. Across hills and under branches, her chariot took her, until the horses were coughing blood and running on stumps sanded away by stone and root. So long was the journey, that before their unknown destination was reached, Sha-laxas Itha gave birth, and that which she had born was the son of the dawn and the night, emperor of tide and storm, or tree and beast. When the soldiers who had helped her returned the son to her arms, his very touch sealed shut the wounds he had torn on his way out, and from his first minute, the boy could speak.
So the young emperor spoke: “Bring the chariot to yonder hill; stick so your swords in the grass, o guardsmen, and wait until the sun has set. When dawn again has cast its rays upon this virgin soil of old, the realm my blood shall rule eternal, clearly will be seen.”
The guards obeyed, for none could dispute the miracle before themselves. So they in place of tortured horses shouldered the chariot by its drawbar and shaft, and with the mother and the emperor in the carriage, they brought it to the hill up ahead. At the top, they dug their blades into the soil and went to sleep. That night, they saw visions of a second Muhakim - a greater Muhakim - ruled by imperial blood as divine as had ruled their home for centuries.
When they woke up, at last, their emperor had spoken true - before them laid the rays of heaven, glaring down at the distant plain. There, between the lake and desert, the capital to stand a thousand years would be built.
Written by the predecessor to the current ruling dynasty, the Imperial Doctrine has become a staple of the imperial cult and the heritage of the royal family. However, in spite of its acceptance as historical fact, it overshadows the true founding of the Gu-Wei empire:
The first elves to settle the Xinguo, the empire heartlands between the Midland Sea and the southern deserts, may at some point have had ties to the Muha empire. However, the settlement of the heartlands happened 848 years ago as opposed to a thousand, and was largely limited to a small coalition of elven escapees from the north. Armed and armoured with superior technology, this coalition (known as the Guzu) began conquering and assimilating surrounding elven refugee tribes. Efforts were made early on to establish a centralised government, but due to limited access to food, rampant disease and constant conflict with local human tribes, the Guzu could never keep enough soldiers to maintain larger order. In the end, they were driven from the Xinguo heartlands and forced to trek northwards, where they eventually settled by the Midland Sea. In the year 207 of the second age, the settlement of Shi was founded by the first Guzu emperor, Rizan of the Shi dynasty.
The lakelands suffered few of the same issues as the heartlands, with the foreign tribes being fewer, less aggressive and easier to defend against, and the access to waterways allowing for much greater degree of inwards communication. Rizan was a capable emperor and a dedicated diplomat. He made peace early with the lakefarer tribes and initiated cultural exchange programs to acquire as much knowledge as he could about the land, the lake, the flora and fauna. Through these exchanges, the Guzu learned of the tribes’ foes, allies, disagreements and internal struggles. These slips of the tongue shortly became the graves of a multitude of tribes, as the Guzu pitted them against one another, bribed them, turned on old allies in favour of mightier favorites. The Guzu equipped their closest with bronze tools and weapons and watched them wipe out the smaller rebels who stood against the growing might of the Shi dynasty. By the year 297, the Guzu controlled all of the southern lakebank and a considerable chunk of the heartlands.
With the heartland recaptured and the empire’s strength boosted beyond recognition, Rizan looked away from the forested empire centre for a moment at the distant riverlands to the west. Tales from the human traders told of food in immeasurable abundance, and the last hundred years certainly had tested the larder sizes of the empire. They first moved in with diplomats, trying to learn from the multiple tribes along the great rivers; learn of their motives, their cultures - their enemies. Initial contact was friendly enough - trade agreements were settled and grain, fruit, legumes and vegetables flowed into Shi. However, the trade was lopsided - the royal advisors cautioned that much of the realm’s wealth was being drained in return for much too little crops. At the time, the Guzu had a complex iron industry, using iron sludge from the eastern swamplands. In return for a week’s worth of crops, the river tribes demanded enough iron to amount to two weeks of work. The trade simply wasn’t sustainable.
In 314, Rizan had had enough. The empire was by now in severe debt, and all too dependent on the grain trade, so the emperor rounded up the royal forces and went to war against the river tribes. It would be a conflict which would outlast the emperor himself, for the river tribes were crafty. They knew the wetlands would swallow whatever heavier cavalry the imperial forces employed, and their canoes and rafts much outpaces and outmaneuvered the cumbersome battle fleet of the Shi dynasty. The first few skirmishes brought nothing by losses to the empire: Ships were sunk; warriors, drowned; horses and chariots, forever lost in the swamps. In 361, after 47 years of war, emperor Rizan died of unknown causes. The losses the empire had suffered were immeasurable - some land had been conquered, only to be lost promptly thereafter as the enemy rallied against them. Fortifications built would just sink into the ground and break. Before long, the empire itself fell into turmoil as bordering tribes to the south and east initiated revolts. An opposing political faction arose in court known as the Sons of the Phoenix. They garnered support among the uprising factions as faction members would lead raids against imperial institutions and set free prisoners and slaves. In 366, the Phoenix Rebellion reached Shi and the Shi dynasty capitulated.
The Phoenix Sons’ saying went as such: “Like the bird of flame, our empire shall fall and rise again, more beautiful than ever.” In many ways, that mission succeeded. The first action the new emperor, Laoqun of the Feng dynasty, did was to end the grain trade with the river tribes. While this decision was unpopular at first, the empire’s population had been reduced so immensely that little to no starvation followed. Secondly, the emperor reduced the taxes on iron, salt and fabrics, nearly bankrupting the state a second time in a decade. However, public opinion was high and Laoqun dedicated his rule to building up again the lost trust of the border tribes. The ban on other races than elves at court was lifted, and the royal family was soon counselled by elves, humans and even the occasional muckling. The diversity of the empire prospered as a result, and the proto-tribes of the Middlings and Druïtha could be seen working their crafts in street shops. However, not all bonds would heal so easily, and the river tribes were particularly hateful of the Guzu. Laoqun thus decided to never send elves to negotiate with them, but instead send humans. After all, humans had much more in common with other humans than elves did.
However, the peaceful solution Laoqun had dreamed of did not come to pass. By year 401, the lake tribe coalition that had sworn fealty to the Feng dynasty was at war with the river tribes, and the contract binding the lake tribes to the empire forced the imperial army into the conflict. The royal coffers had barely recovered in the past forty years and Laoqun knew that the empire couldn’t survive another war like the dreaded War of A Man’s Age. The emperor sent out emissaries to all corner of the empire, begging for support. A number honoured their oaths, but the emissaries returned largely empty-handed.
The emperor thus had no choice but to raise the taxes. Initial backlash was merciless, with open rebellion in the eastern regions and the threat of a two-front war on the horizon. However, the Feng dynasty couldn’t afford to break its alliance with the lake people: for one, they kept the coffers full with loyally paid taxes and trade; secondly, they were much too close. In the year 407, as the east drew closer and closer to a loss and the river tribes gave no sign of struggle, the emperor died of a stroke. His successor, Mengshi, unrelated to the emperor by blood and instead chosen on account of his merit, ordered the lake tribes to pull out of the river lands and concentrate fully on containing the eastern rebellions. While initial responses were stubborn and unwilling, the lake tribes eventually left the river lands and sailed east to the Iron Swamps. With the reinforcements in place, the Guzu forces allied with loyal human tribes and the lake peoples turned the tides of war completely, forcing the rebels far away into the eastern forests. The Guzu commanders installed a powerful garrison and made bloody examples of rebel prisoners in the streets and on the borders -- blood eagle torture and flaying were commonly practiced to instill fear in the hearts of the rebels. The Guzu blamed all the horror in the region on the uprisers, and a hatred begun to fester in the people against the opposition. In year 406, enemies of the Feng dynasty were given a bounty of ten bei, enough to feed a family of five for a month. Traitors were rooted out like weeds in the garden, and the witch hunt almost started a second round of turmoil; however, it was much more stable than the region had been before.
With the east under control, Mengshi set his eyes west again. There would be no hope in a frontal assault again. While control of the east provided a much needed source of income for the imperial coffers again, an attack on the river lands would be outright suicidal. So he would wait. The river tribes would never leave their own lands to attack - it was much too easy to defend and nigh impossible to attack from; however, could the emperor give them a reason?
For centuries, he planned and taunted the riverlands, often offering them mockingly beautiful gifts to show how stellar the heartlands had become. By 580, alliances made with the Druïtha and various other human woodland tribes came together to conquer the heartlands in the name of the Feng dynasty, so silk flowed through Shi like water through the riverlands. Emissaries were constantly sent back without their heads, hands, legs or noses, but Mengshi pressed on. Surely enough, by the year 600, various factions in the riverlands begun viewing the empire through different lenses. Trade opened up again, but the emperor’s men were certain to keep the prices under their control. The empire prospered, and slowly, slowly, the imperial traders were feeding the river tribes misinformation, lies and deceit about their allies, turning the tribes against one another. In 611, the chief of the Jianger-Kaan, one of the smaller river tribes, came to the royal court for an audience. They spoke of oppression and betrayal from the Ungur-zun, lords of the headwaters, and wanted their vengeance. If the empire offered their aid, the Jianger-Kaan would smuggle a force across Laojiang, the widest river and the biggest thorn in the side of any attack plan to seize the wetlands. While the imperial warfleet was well known and hated among the river tribes, none would suspect the small galleys of Jianger-Kaan.
This was the opportunity the emperor had waited for. Immediately, he agreed to send over ten thousand troops to lay siege to the Ungur-zun capital of Dosr-ung. The assault happened later that year; the river clans had not a minute to react. The transport across the Laojiang had been swift and efficient, and the soldiers had hidden in the dense woods until the time came to strike. When the war horns sounded, an unprepared city faced ten thousand armoured elves and men. Dosr-ung fell within hours.
With the greatest and most powerful river tribe under imperial control, more and more rose up against their oppressive masters in hopes that they would gain imperial favour. By 613, the riverlands, the bane of emperor Rizan and the Shi dynasty, and a five century old thorn in the side of the Guzu elves, were finally under the control of the Feng dynasty.
A hundred years of prosperity followed: Riverland grain flowed into the capital of Shi and the population grew with unprecedented speed. In fact, population growth was so rapid that the nobles at court began to fear that the empire had become dependent on the western riverlands - too dependent. Various factions rose up at court, all of which came up with their own solutions to the problem. Emperor Mengshi, while popular among the people (or, well, those that knew of him), had grown quite unpopular in court of late, primarily among the elven cliques. The ones united Sons of the Phoenix had split into a multitude of subfactions, which added deeper complexity to the already diverse court. In 715, a grave plague broke out in Shi that spread out across the land, bringing with it an unfathomable death toll. Emperor Mengshi took ill and died within weeks of the outbreak, and in his place rose a faction of the Muha Brotherhood, a faction believing in the supremacy of elvenkind. They quickly surrounded themselves with guards and walls of words, arresting anyone who spoke up against their segregating ways. Other races were banned from court, causing great turmoil in the many factions of the empire. The plague that had ravaged the realm was blamed on the mucklings’ unclean way of life, and a great culling followed, effectively ending muckling society as it had existed for millennia.
In 737, the Druïtha of the Heartlands burst into an outrage as imperial forces sent lumberers to turn Düatha-de-Eamhair, the main grove of the northern circle, into farmland. The outrage was met with violence, which spurred a great rebellion which would come to be known as the Ashen War. Druïtha humans were vicious in their attacks and knew their wooden terrian better than the imperial armies of Guzu elves, Jianger-Kaan sailors and various other human tribes. As brave as the woodland tribes were, however, they could not withstand the fire arrows and pitch-rolled boulders of the imperial forces. The entire grove was reduced to ashes, and the Druïtha subdued through force. By 755, the Muha Brotherhood cast aside the name of the Feng dynasty and instead named their own emperor, Guxiong of the Ge dynasty.
Guxiong began his work immediately, ordering every writer and historian in the capital to draft a census of lineages in the court, and to begin work on what he and the Muha Brotherhood called the Imperial Doctrine. For too long had the Guzu mingled with lesser races on the quest for greatness - it had soiled their sacred heritage and impeded their mission to lay all the world beneath a new Muha empire. As such, the Muha Brotherhood and the emperor’s men wrote volumes upon volumes of history tracing Guxiong’s bloodline back to the last emperor of Muha, and his favorite concubine, Sha-laxas Itha. The court enforced this new doctrine that spoke of a sacred magical heritage from a thousand years past, and a bright future that would, like the phoenix, rise again out of the ashes even stronger than before.
A complete overhaul of the state was also in order: For nearly five hundred years, the state had been primarily built around the capital of Shi, with few to no actual elven settlements beyond. Lesser races had not actually been governed; they had gone about their own ways, occasionally paid taxes and then taken up arms upon the emperor’s command. In terms of control, the previous emperor could point to but a few lose lines on a map and vaguely declare that those were the empire’s borders. However, everyone at court knew that over half the peasants, woodlanders, lakefarers and other tribes they governed only knew of the empire as two to three armoured guards that occasionally stopped by their village demanding grain.
Guxiong and his clique agreed - this would not do.
It began in 758 with the installment of a new rank - governor. The country was divided into sixteen provinces, each to be governed by an elven governor sent from the capital. The governor would enforce imperial law and doctrines on the citizens of the empire, and see to it that not only taxes were paid, but that the citizens also paid an imperial tithe directly to the imperial family. To avoid separatism, each province was also monitored by an envoy of the emperor, and the traditionally tumultuous east was divided into a multitude of provinces to avoid any one province seizing power in the area.
By 760, however, it became abundantly clear quite quickly that the peoples of the empire had quite the opposite opinion on how the country should be run. In the newly dubbed provinces of Duyin (Druïthim) and Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama), the imperial doctrine of an emperor of divine origins strictly counterspoke the Druïtha belief that no living being could ever descend from divinity, and that the only contact the living could establish with the gods was one through harmony and unity with nature. Furthermore, the local governors agreed that the main commodity of value in the province was silk, and it was declared that the local tithes should be paid in silk. However, the harvesting and processing of silk was a sacred ritual to the Druïtha, and to hurry it along in any way was considered wanton blasphemy. Any effort to increase production in time for tithe season was thus met with hostilities and at times open conflict.
The provinces of Guokoubei (Northern Riverlands), Guokounan (Southern Riverlands) and Jiangdi (Jianger) faired little better. The local festivals around sowing season and harvesting season were banned on account of overlapping with the emperor’s birthday and the Month of Ancestors. Immediately, this sparked rampant riots throughout all three provinces. Food exports to the Heartlands were stopped nigh overnight, and chaos erupted soon after in the central regions. In the east, too, tensions grew high as the oral traditions passed down for generations were suppressed in favour of the imperial cult. Even the far south, which had been a largely stable part of the country for centuries, experienced riots as Draconians grew unimpressed by the weak-bodied leadership of puny elves.
As quickly as they could, the governors sent messages to the emperor, urging him to roll back the tithe reforms and the emphasis on the imperial doctrine, but the emperor would not answer them back. No, for as riots ravaged the countryside and the capital grew famished, the emperor and his closest delved into the deepest dungeons of the imperial palace, where they began to call for angels, demons - anything that could save them in their peril. Meanwhile, one of the governors, Yandi of Sunguo (Sunnaland), united the other governors of the east in a rebellion against the Ge dynasty. Yandi had grown sympathetic to the Esterlings’ cause, seeing the tyranny in suppressing centuries of culture all to legitimise a despotic rule. The rebel armies met little resistance on the way, indifferent governors and supportive soldiers allowing them safe passage. They entered the royal palace to see that the emperor and his who clique had committed ritualistic suicide in a vain effort to summon some form of dark magic. Whether they had succeeded is unknown, but what was certain was that a new leader was needed. Yandi took it upon himself to see the systems of his predecessor undone, and was in 763 crowned emperor Yandi of the Wu dynasty.
During his reign, Yandi removed the restrictions on who could serve as governor, but he did not quite open up the court. During his initial days as ruler, he uncovered a dozen unfinished or prototype plans for possible reforms, many of which he confessed were quite revolutionary. Among other things was a population census, far from completed but vaguely drafted. It categorised the many citizens of the empire into actual groups for the first time: There were two kinds of elf, likely to legitimise the number of elves he threw out of the city for disagreeing with the imperial doctrine; the humans were united into one group, perhaps a reason behind their recent rebellion; the mucklings, who had been reduced to meagre vermin stalking the streets of Shi and the banks of the Midland Sea, were included for some reason; and the Draconians of the south. It was a rough draft, but a draft nonetheless.
Further digging into the many proposals made Yandi ponder if the previous emperor truly had been so mad and despotic as he had thought: Many of these reforms would effectivise the state considerably, including a standardised system of writing, a standing army, quarterly taxation instead of monthly… The list went on. Yandi would keep some and scrap some.
By 783, the majority of governors were from the actual province they governed, which solved a number of issues. Yandi declared that the imperial doctrine should no longer be enforced, but instead taught as imperial history to those seeking to enter a position at court. Local customs were legalised once more, and the tumult slowly begun to die down again. Governor power was restricted further, and beyond taxation and military drafts, the central government remained largely invisible to the majority imperial citizens. Anyone seeking a position in government had to learn the standardised script known as guwen; traders and trading guilds who operated with written accounts also had to learn to be allowed into imperial ports. The Greater Shi area developed a local dialect which became the official tongue of the empire, known as guanyan. Finally, the bei was introduced as the standard currency for all to use, phasing out among other things the barter economy of the Druïtha. Standard weights and measurements were also enforced, based on the Middling units used in trade.
A century passed under Yandi’s rule and reforms were passed slowly and allowed the populace time to adjust. Yandi’s royal court had come to be known as the Huangzu, just as Guxiong and his clique had wanted. These elves were of Yandi’s own blood and served in the highest seats of government. The emperor made certain to maintain good relations with them all at all times, and was thorough when it came to emphasising that he was descended from Muha, and that he himself had been chosen to rule out of all of his family by angelic mandate. This idea of the angelic mandate was spread throughout the empire and adapted for local cultures. All would know that to unseat the emperor was to go against the will of the angels and gods. The tax system had filled the state coffers with metal, food and fabrics, all of which were spent on great structures to honour the greatness of the Wu dynasty. Shi was no longer alone in being the only great city in the empire. Other centres of industry, trade and growth popped up around the realm: Jiangla and Jianger in the riverlands, with populations numbering almost a million each; Amarra, jewel of the east, an industrial port city with nearly seven hundred thousand diligent workers keeping the iron forges flaring day and night; Norrabi in the Sunnaland province, uniting the fabrics of the Druïtha groves and jewels and minerals of the southern deserts with the markets of the north. The country was blooming; the phoenix had risen again from the ashes.
At the mark of the 900th year of the 2nd Age, emperor Yandi declared to all that the empire of the Guzu elves, which for so long had existed without a truly defined name beyond the Guzu or whatever name of the dynasty in power had chosen, were to be given a true name. He took the first character of the Guzu name, 古, meaning ancient, and claimed the only character he deemed worthy to describe the empire: 威, wei, the guwen character for might. In guanyan, thusly, the empire was named Gu-Wei, ‘ancient might’.
It would be wrong to classify the Gu-Wei empire’s culture as a singular thing. With the multitude of ethnic groups and cultural criss-crossing between the various races, Gu-Wei is host to a plethora of different customs, ranging from clothing to festivities to languages. Here are some examples:
To a high degree, the whole empire follows a loose set of laws laid out by various emperors since the dawn of the empire. These include the usual passages, such as prohibiting murder, stealing, adultery and various other malicious practices. However, while a standardised system of law has been in the works over the past two centuries, the Elves of Shi cannot seem to rid their realm completely of a number of older laws that stick to their subjects like marrow in the bones.
Riverland Law: The Blood Debt
A remarkable trait among the riverlanders is their blood debt law, which states that any murder entitles the family of the deceased to a life from the killer’s family. This debt can be paid either through servitude, death or property. Due to the severity of the two first options, most choose to pay the family of the deceased the amount equal to the life of their dead relative. These prices are standardised, with the death of an adult male costing a thousand bei; an adult woman, two thousand bei; a child under the age of fifteen summers, five hundred bei; an elder above the age of forty summers regardless of gender, a thousand bei. Occassionally, however, some will choose the path of servitude. In the event that this happens, the killer or someone from the killer’s family is chained to the deceased’s family until death, regardless of whether the family believes the debt has been paid. The family chooses how they wish to treat the servant, and the servant has no right to argue against unfair treatment. Most servants die shortly after enslavement due to overworking.
Druïtha Law: The Sacred Groves
The sacred groves are defined as any forested area that the druids have declared carries seeds of the gods. These groves are respected and cared for like children, for they are the only worldly connections to the gods, without which the world would be doomed. Therefore, harming the groves in anyway is punishable by death. Harming can be as little as peeling bark off of the trees.
Druïtha Law: The Law of Nature’s Speed
Nature takes its time with everything - nothing is ever hastened along, or so the Druïtha say. Unlike their Esterling neighbours to the northeast, the Druïtha shun all manner of mass production or unsustainable resource extraction. Therefore, any effort to ‘hurry nature along’ (that being increasing production at the cost of nature, for example filling the forest with silk worms which then eat all the leaves and shrubberies around), is prohibited and punishable by death.
Esterling Law: Right to Duel
Few qualities are more important to an Esterling than pride - the very act of losing face or causing someone to lose face can ruin a person’s whole career - whole life, even. Thus, whenever an Esterling is insulted gravely, they can invoke the right to duel, at which point the insulter and insultee will both draw swords and fight until one of them falls. This right is culturally accepted and the winner is not charged with murder afterwards regardless of the imperial laws prohibiting such.
Middling Law: Embargo-Free
The Middlings believe in great profits, and centuries of knowing the markets and trade have led them to choose any port whenever, regardless of whether its friendly or mean. Due to their importance to the imperial coffers, the Middlings are effectively allowed to smuggle and trade with the enemy as much as they want, provided they can show the port authorities adequate documents.
Crafting carries many meanings throughout the empire: In the east, crafting refers to the way of life for the citizens of the forge-cities, fashioning rusty sludge into iron tools and weapons; to the Druïtha, craftsmanship is turning silk into fabric and wood into totems and idols; the Jianger-Kaan see craftsmanship in culinary art, spending hours and even days perfecting recipes; the Draconians see craftsmanship in jewelry and even martial arts; the mucklings practice shell art and stone carving to shape idols of worship in their villages and slums. The Elves, both Huangzu and Puzu, practice goldsmithing and jewelcrafting using the resources imported from the south, and the Middlings build great ships for both the trade fleet and warfleet of the empire. Additionally, the Guzu elves of old passed down schematics and trade secrets in medicine, papercraft and construction, which especially the Puzu Elves make good use of in expansion of Gu-Wei culture throughout the realm.
Clothing varies a great deal throughout the empire, with each ethnic group differing slightly depending on local customs and climate. Largely, however, the availability of silk and flax fabrics and the overall warmth of the southern temperate areas, the majority of the populace wears light clothing in the form of tunics, robes and baggy pants.
The Huangzu commonly dress in fine silks with bejeweled embroideries, using materials from all across the realm. The daily clothing follows a strict gender-based code, where males wear black or white robes and females wear red, blue or green. What colour one wears is decided by one’s station and relationship with the emperor. The emperor himself wears only yellow to signify their station. Other colours denote: Male: What the male fashion shares in common is an emphasis on one or two colours for the whole attire: Black with gold, white with blue.
Black: Father/uncle/older brother to the emperor. Has limited power at court, but husbands will make decisions in the emperor’s place if the emperor for some reason is unavailable. Those dressed in black function as advisors to the emperor. As they are figures of importance for the emperor’s growth, the emperor repays them with respect and wealth.
White: Cousins, nephews, sons, young brother: Those that wear white have no power initially unless granted a position, typically in the military or in provincial governance. The white robes are typically referred to as ‘scholardress’ as the emperor’s cousins, nephews, sons and younger brothers are forced to undergo an intense education so they one day can serve their leader as able officers or statesmen.
Female: As opposed to male clothing, female dresses often have multiple different colours and embroideries to complement and contrast the base tint. Furthermore, they often wear short jackets of contrasting colours.
Blue: Emperor’s mother/aunt/older sister: Serves in advisory positions as well as caretakers of the emperor. They oversee management of the royal estates such as the summer and winter palaces, and the central palace grounds in Shi. The blue-clothed are nonetheless very well respected, and traditions dictate that the emperor must see to it that these individuals are married to good men and given wealthy homes.
Red: Cousines, nieces, daughters and younger sisters of the emperor: Much like their male counterparts, this group is put in education to serve the emperor. However, due to the tight familial bonds among the Huangzu, most of the red-clothed are sent into domestic education to serve as the emperor’s future concubines or wives to the emperor’s sons and brothers.
Green: The emperor’s wife and concubines: Compared to the other groups, these enjoy quite a bit of freedom, being closest to the emperor and the bearer of his children (provided they live to not see their father overthrown).
Military Fashion: Another trait common among the males of Huangzu is ceremonial armour in official ceremonies. This armour is heavy and cumbersome, but incredibly beautiful and a strong sign of wealth and might. Due to its expense, however, it’s typically only worn by those closest to the emperor.
Puzu Elves typically hold lower positions in government or at court at the most, and the majority are either peasants, artisans or scholars. Their clothing is not colour-coded as strictly as that of Huangzu, but heavy influences from the central court create certain norms for what to wear. Among the gentry, for example, one is expected to at least own one attire in the style of Huangzu silk for ceremonial and official occasions. Here, the men are expected to wear black or white, and the women red or blue, though the colours are not tied to particular positions. However, outside of Greater Shi and deeper into the Heartlands, the gender divide on colours is less rigid, meaning Puzu governors outside of Greater Shi often wear red robes and consider it a proud cultural trait.
Those who are of lesser means and birth usually wear linen or leather, depending on what’s available. The heat can get intense in the summer, especially further into the Heartlands or in the south in Druïthim. Those who are well off among the peasantry try their best to appear like Huangzu by wearing linen robes fashioned from flax. The richest estate farmers hire master spinners to fashion them such clothing, and some attires are nearly indistinguishable at a glance.
Druïtha live in moist, hot, dense forests, and many go out into the open barely clothed save loincloths to cover the bare necessities. What is typical is that much of what they wear is made from that most comfortable of fabrics, silk. It was said back when the Guzu first made contact with the Druïtha that even their beggars gather the food they earn in sacks of woven silk. The material is in such overflow that its only true value to the Druïtha is religious. Dyeing clothes is a newer concept, however, introduced by the Guzu; it has only been roughly two centuries since the Druïtha began dyeing the clothes they wear. As opposed to the other ethnicities of the empire, the Druïtha are openly against the fashion of the capital, and the governors of Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama often suffer hard glares when official ceremonies force them to don Huangzu clothing.
Esterlings are a simple folk that wear what best complements their work, be it light clothing with thick gloves and boots in the forge-cities, leather and thick cloaks to ward off the autumn and winter elements in the fields, bare-torsoed in the baking sun. The common materials found in Esterling clothing are linen and leather; the richer gentry and nobles will occasionally wear Huangzu silk during official visits or when making visits.
Middlings dress in what they sell, most often, so many of the merchants dress themselves in silk and linen fabrics, often in the form of turbans and robes. The Midland Sea is known to occasionally be quite windy, so baggy, insulating clothing solves both issues of hot and cold. Landbound merchants, especially the rich, gladly dress themselves like Huangzu and Puzu nobility, as to appear even richer.
The Jianger-Kaan typically only wear clothing to protect from the elements, such as the powerful summer sun or the torrential winter rains. Clothing is typically restricted to loincloths in the Southern Riverlands, tunic and skirts growing in popularity to both the north and south. The richest wear leather fashioned from the skin of water buffalo or Huangzu silks, depending on their station. Due to slight distrust of the Elves, however, the majority of riverfolk still carry resentment towards Guzu culture. They also often wear large, shield-like, circular straw hats when working.
The Muckling clothing is often simple, limited to loincloths and vests. Depending on whether they live in villages or slums, their clothing may vary from primal, but whole, to poor and ragged. The mucklings use leather to make armour, though centuries of repression and cultural loss has left much of their more complex culture in ruins.
Gender: Gender differences is viewed differently throughout the empire, but the imperial doctrine is quite specific about the role of women in government - that being that it is nonexistent. According to the imperial doctrine, women serve as masters of the home, not what’s beyond it.
Among the Huangzu, this means that women possess quite a lot of authority within the imperial palaces, but are functionally powerless outside of them. Women cannot hold positions of governance or military posts, either. Among the Puzu, the laws stay much the same: Women are largely restricted to the home while men decide matters relating to what’s outside of it. The same culture applies to much of the Jianger-Kaan and the rest of the riverfolk, which coincides neatly with imperial doctrine.
In Esterling and Druïtha territory, however, women have traditionally taken a much greater role outside of the home: Forge-cities are manned just as much by women and men, and Druïthan men are forbidden from serving in the military, as they instead must follow the path of druidism. These cultural rifts have caused numerous disputes throughout history, and the Druïtha still do not offer soldiers to the imperial army on account of the male requirement. Hierarchy: Social mobility isn’t impossible in the empire, but it’s strictly controlled. The Huangzu make all imperial decisions, and all the realm’s subjects must (ideally) accept them without question; however, the various governors around the realm and their advisors make more specialised decisions on the local scale. Furthermore, a small minority of advisors at court comprised on non-Huangzu officials may potentially have a small sway in national decisions, but these are few and reliant on connections to spread their influence.
Outside of the royal sphere, however, potentially anyone can rise to become a lesser official or even provincial governor. All they require are is an education at the Imperial Academy in Shi and a mentor who will speak for them during elections. This right is universal for elves, humans and draconians. Mucklings are not allowed to apply to the Imperial Academy.
Any decision made at the provincial level is absolute and will be enforced through law. For this reason, locals are often encouraged to participate in local politics through dialogue with the provincial government to achieve the most harmonious agreements.
In terms of racial hierarchy, the elves regardless of type are above humans, and enjoy certain handicaps in court of law, such as shorter and milder sentences compared to their shorter-lived counterparts. Draconians and humans have equal standing in society, though kobolds that sneak across Gu-Wei borders are treated as lesser and often shunned. Mucklings are at the bottom.
As mentioned, the written word, guwen, is standardised across the whole realm as the only written language accepted in transactions, official and unofficial documents and literature. It’s a logographic script supposedly derived from ancient Muha magical glyphs. It is incredibly difficult to learn and requires a great deal of financial and time investments, which is one of the reasons literacy rates are borderline nonexistent outside of the higher gentry and nobility. However, guwen has been a boon for Esterlings, Middlings and Jianger-Kaan alike, as these civilisations never possessed a written language, or used one that was underdeveloped and insufficient. The Druïtha unofficially use a runic, syllabic script that is officially banned, but secretly allowed for religious reasons.
As for spoken languages, the Gu-Wei empire is incredibly diverse in the centre and much more unified in the riverlands. Water unites, so the Jianger-Kaan dialect of xiyu (western talk, or riverfolk speak) is not so different from the Ungur-zun all the way up to the northern border.
All xiyu names have the following structure: [place of origin, birth, work, etc.]+[attributive particle]+[given name]. An example would be the governor of the Southern Riverlands, Bast im Ratinmaar - Ratinmaar is his given name, "im" is an attributive particle, which denotes that he is "of" whatever comes before it, which is this case is the city of Bast, the second largest city in the province after Jiangla - in other words, his name means Ratinmaar of Bast. Throughout the riverlands region, this structure stays the same, though pronounciation changes as you move further south: In Jianger province, "im" is pronounced "min", and in Longway, it's pronounced "mi".
In the east, the situation is similar: Rivers and the Midland Sea have united most of the east and Midland around very similar tongues, exceptions being the borders between Origo and Ithram, where dense forests and scattered populations have led to the development of some strange languages that are largely unintelligible to the rest of the Esterlings.
While Middling names have exceptions, the Esterlings as a whole has a very strict, specialised way of naming children. A given name is constructed from a root syllable of the parent's name (can be either mother or father), then an additional syllable to give the child their own name, then is finished with a suffix denoting gender (-sun, -san, -sen if the child is a boy; -dar, -dor, -dehr if the child is a girl - the pronounciation varies depending on region). The last name is then constructed from the patron god or matron goddess' name's first syllable, completed with the suffix -mir, meaning "descendant". For example: Governor Honursan Yomir - his mother's name was Mahondor Yomir, so her root syllable is 'hon'. This becomes the first syllable. Secondly, Honursan's personal name is the syllable ur, meaning 'pride'. This becomes the second syllable. Finally, Honursan is male, so his gender suffix is -san. His family matron goddess is the ancient ancestor Yo, meaning his matron name is Yomir.
Middlings have followed this tradition at times, and governor Bonursan Sunna of Midland was given a first name according to this convention; however, Middlings also have their own conventions, related more to place of origin or homestead than bloodline. Bonursan Sunna may be named by Esterling conventions, but his family name denotes instead where he's from - Sunnaland. Furthermore, the head of the Blue Phoenix Company in Midta, Unsur Quam, shares no conventions with the Esterlings, his given name being entirely that of his father and his last name saying he's from the town of Quam in Midland.
The southeastern Heartlands and Druïthim, however, have some tongue that even after 500 years of cultural exchange remain largely uninfluenced or unchanged from the isolated languages native to the Druïtha woods. The Druïtha speak in total eight different languages with a much greater number of dialects. The languages spoken in the Dûna-de-Hama province, specifically in the provincial capital Hi-Dûna, have been heavily influenced by Esterspeak due to trade, with the Hi-Dûna dialect even having been changed slightly at a syntactic level.
Any names of Celtic origin will do.
The language spoken in Shi, specifically the one used by the Huangzu and the Puzu, is known as guanyan. This is an old Elven-derived language with tones and limited consonants. To know it fluently is a requirement to graduate from the Imperial Academy in Shi, and is used in all political processes. Among traders it also functions as a lingua franca within the empire.
Guanyan names are always two to three syllables long, composed of a family name and a given name. Either of these can be one syllable, but only one of them can be two. For example, governor Zhang Mozhang (guwen: 張墨章) of the Heartland's name is three syllables long; governor Áed the Pale of Druïthim's guanyan name, Bai Ye (guwen: 白頁), is two syllables long. Each syllable is connected to a written guwen character, all of which strictly have one syllable and a meaning. All students at the Imperial Academy are required to take and use a name in guwen - many replace their own name with it.
The Muckling tongue commands a wholly different repertoire of sounds than what elven or human mouths can properly replicate. Several words incorporate croaks of different tones and intensity, sounds which are completely necessary to properly convey meaning. Differences between stressed and unstressed croaks may mean the difference between warning someone that the village is in danger and calling one’s conversation partner fat. The grammar lacks tense, instead conveying meaning by laying down a context then explaining one’s point; for example, in order to tell someone else that something else happened yesterday, a muckling would say “yesterday, something happens”. In addition to the already difficult oral elements, the Muckling language incorporates a number of hand and facial gestures to convey meaning, such as tapping their chests to indicate 'self' or tapping their fingers together to convey the word 'name' before pronouncing it. Furthermore, while it’s been severely marginalised over the course of the centuries, there is a higher form of Muckling speech known in history scrolls as croaksong or rrurrt-yk-xechen. Once, this was a special dialect of mucklingspeak with its own grammar and diction, entirely dedicated to oral poetry, song and religious practices. Long strings of various croaks and ribbits would weave together into religious choral music that went on long into the night. These days, only a number of ageing tribe shamans are familiar with the tongue; in town slums, the tongue has been lost for ages.
Muckling names are difficult to write down, as their language translates poorly to any sort of phonemic writing. Common sounds are guttural or croak-like, which are hard to convey properly with text. However, general conventions rely mainly on sounds like "ribbit", "croak", "rwahck" and "och". Several consonants in a row are also common.
To the Elves, there are three great celebrations throughout the year: The Month of the Ancestors, the Emperor’s Birthday and the Literature Festival.
Month of the Ancestors: This is a month-long event during which both Huangzu and Puzu elves mourn those that have passed and pray for advice and blessings for the coming year. During the start of the month, graves are sweeped and washed, and children are expected to make offerings of a tenth of what they earn or reap during that month to their parents. As the month nears its end, great festivals are thrown to praise the festivals and bring great fortune in the coming year. There are musical performances, theatre telling stories of the past, dance numbers and, of course, feasts in abundance. Falls on the first month of every year.
The Emperor’s Birthday: Celebrating this day goes back all the way to the first emperor Rizan, whose birthday was on the seventh day of the tenth moon. The manner of celebration has stayed largely constant, with great markets and games in Shi. Nowadays, great gladiatorial tournaments are arranged in a specialised arena called the Phoenix Nest. While this fighting pit is open all year round, it’s especially active on this day. Emperor Yandi’s birthday is the ninth day of the third month.
The Literature Festival: Largely a local festival in Shi, the Literature Festival is in truth a different name for the Imperial Academy graduation ceremony. The academy grounds is first filled with stalls manned by the soon-to-be graduates presenting their final works of prose or poetry. Then at midday, the top ten students will present summaries of their works for all to hear. Finally, the academy principal announces that the students are worthy graduates and then open markets in the streets selling food and commodities for the families to gift their newly graduated son.
Jianger-Kaan festivities mainly relate to the sowing season and the harvesting season, which due to the riverlands’ fertility happen twice per year. After the emperor allowed for the Month of Ancestors to be celebrated simultaneously with other festivals, the riverfolk have also taken up this custom.
The Sowing Festival: Falls on the second month and the eighth month. A village wide celebration during which the many families come together to preserve what they have left in the form of wine, beer, preserves or other dishes. Animals are also typically slaughtered for this festival both to let the farmers eat themselves fat and strong, and to smoke and dry the meat for the long wait until the harvest.
The Harvest Festival: Falls on the sixth month and the twelfth month. The whole village comes together to reap the fruits of their labour and enjoy it in the form of great feasts of noodles, steamed and baked goods and various stews and soups.
Middlings and Esterlings share common celebrations. Additionally, they both celebrate Month of the Ancestors.
The Harvest Festival (East): Quite similar to the harvest festival of the riverlands, except that the Esterlings don’t celebrate with a village-wide meal; the streets are rampant with drinking and song, but the dinner is eaten at home with one’s family. Falls on the seventh month.
Nongri (‘Boorsdag’ or ‘Farmer’s Day’): Every last day of the week, all workers are exempt from work. While this usually isn’t treated as a celebration, it has its groundings in history where it stands as a stab back at the governor for imposing too much power over the artisans of the forge-cities.
The Druïtha are the only ethnic group to not celebrate any Guzu holidays, keeping mostly to themselves with ancient religious celebrations venerating nature and its processes.
Pilgrimage of the Groves: Occurs every year during the fifth to eighth months. Young Druïtha who are to be druids or witches go on a pilgrimage from grove to grove to ask the nature spirits’ blessings. During this time, the areas around the groves are host to markets, religious gatherings, theatre and music.
The Mulberry Festival: This festival falls on the ninth month, right after the pilgrimage. This is the collective spinning and weaving of all the silk collected throughout the year from the mulberry moths. The fabrics are later stored and portioned out for the various tax quarters. The festival it especially a time for druid and witch apprentices to show that they have mastered the art of weaving, and weaving competitions are hosted with huge crowds.
The Reforestation: Falls on the third month. Here the druids and witches gather those willing and go to plant trees in place of dead ones or recently chopped ones. This event often causes heated disputes with the Puzu elf peasants of the southern Heartlands who deforest their lands to make more farmland, only to find that Druïtha come back on their land to plant new ones the following year.
Draconian… Mucklings have lost much of their culture over the past 900 years. What remains is but a shadow of the complex lifestyle they ones lead. However, through all the hardships and toils they’ve had to endure and still endure, there is one festival their masters cannot erase:
Tadpoling: During the sixth month, when the tadpoles hatch, the mucklings throw great feasts where they eat hearty meals and throw the leftovers into the river or lake. Their tadpoles eat the leftovers and grow fat and healthy. What remains of the religious element that once played a huge role is now the local shaman wishing for emancipation and a new home for the mucklings.
Entertainment at court is largely limited to games, performances and competitions within the royal family, like archery competitions, riding tournaments, chariot races and many more. The exceptions to this are the Phoenix Nest and the Dayantai Opera Hall: The Phoenix Nest: Located in Shi, it is an enormous rectangular arena within the courtyard of what was once a massive military complex. There are weekly spars and gladiatorial fights both with and without weapons, and every month there is a huge chariot race, which is considered the height of entertainment among the nobles. There are even provincial teams, and the competitive spirit gets fierce when rival teams race.
Dayantai Opera Hall: A massive theatre and musical complex under the open sky, where theatre troupés and bands come every months to play for the audience of the capital. All players must pass tests set by a board of judges to perform, but those that do have the opportunity to play before the imperial family. The best among them may be lucky enough to be hired as royal performers, work for which the pay is great and fame, greater. Around the realm, entertainment comes in a multitude of forms: Middlings will occasionally travel around the riverlands with circus troupés onboard; Esterling oral tradition comes with a career, where storytellers have high social status as both entertainers and teachers; Druïtha relax with music, dancing and games; Jianger-Kaan and other riverfolk drink, sing, dance, play theatre and party to entertain themselves; mucklings will have swimming and fishing competitions. Furthermore, music is very important in the Gu-Wei empire, being appreciated by every culture that inhabits it. Typical instruments played include flutes and drums, but the Guzu have introduced various others such as the guqin and guzheng, two types of harps; the erhu, which is a two-stringed instrument; gongs and han drums, and more. Song written in any of the languages within the realm may find themselves to be quite popular with even the royal family if allowed to spread. Thanks to opportunities like those at the Dayantai Opera Hall, music can potentially let beggars become nobility.
While the different kinds of cuisine vary quite a lot throughout the land, all the ethnic groups of the empire focus their diets around large amounts of carbohydrates. Western Cuisine (Jianger-Kaan and Western Heartlands): Rice is a staple food of the west, being almost single-handedly responsible for the enormous and steady population growth. The riverfolk see rice as the basis for all other meals, and a typical day starts with a large bowl of rice, often served fried in egg with corn, peas and scallions. The wealthy may also eat steamed wheat buns stuffed with soy sauce fried meats. The most important meal to the riverfolk, however, is lunch at midday. Due to the hot and moist climate, working the fields at this time of day becomes nigh self-torment. Therefore, people instead flock to the cooler inns and taverns for bowls of beef noodle soup, grilled and seasoned river fish or soy-fried eggplant on rice, eaten with a side of water buffalo milk and pineapple or coconut cakes. If there is room for more, the riverlanders usually eat rice until they’re full. For supper, the riverfolk either eat at home or with their neighbours in the village centres. The typical dishes served are based on what the families grow in their fields: eggplant, cabbage, carrots, turnips, scallions, bok choy, soybeans, spinach and more, often seasoned with peppers of varying spiciness. These vegetables are commonly served with broiled or grilled fish. Jianger-Kaan cooking typically uses soybean oil or buffalo tallow to cook their food in large woks. This meal is the primary source of fiber for most riverlanders, where darker greens provide a nutrient-rich and filling alternative to denser grains. All of this is typically served with rice and, if the families can afford it or own water buffaloes or ducks or chickens, steak and eggs. Other important parts of the riverfolk diet include fruits like watermelon, oranges, lychee and goji berries. Due to Elven influence, tea has also become a staple of the diet and is frequently drunk for supper or between meals. The access to soybeans has also lead to the Jianger-Kaan becoming adept tofu-makers, and the local mapo-tofu is known throughout the whole country. Eastern Cuisine (Esterling, Middling and Northern Druïtha): Where rice is the staple of the west, wheat and millet form the basis of all food in the east. Furthermore, they incorporate to a much greater extent various meats and fats to support their hardworking lifestyle, chief among which is pork. Morning routines are similar to those in the west - breakfast consists of pork chops with sides of bread and millet gruel, typically eaten at home. The first vegetables of the day are consumed around lunch, where the workhouses and taverns near workplaces (or the housewife if one is a farmer) typically serve salted pork, fried fish, pork buns or fresh bread with sides of carrots, boiled bok choy, fermented beans or sautéed spinach. Middlings typically switch the salted pork for even more fish, like lake catfish, carp, minnow or other species. Especially the Druïtha, but also Esterlings and Middlings, supplement lunch with various fruits like oranges, peaches and lychee, and roasted cashew nuts. These are typically also snacks throughout the day. Supper is, like breakfast (and possibly lunch), enjoyed at home in the form of salted pork, fried pig’s fat or bacon, supplemented with either bread, wheat noodles or rice from the west. Occasionally, if the family has access to soybeans, tofu will also be made and served in exciting sauces. Northern Cuisine(Huangzu and Puzu): Elven food differs from the rest of the regional specialities in that it has a heavy reliance on various spices and flavourings to achieve greatness. Without the added complexity of spices, Guzu cuisine is largely restricted to rice, meats and vegetables; however, Guzu are expertly familiar with the local spices growing in their area, and make full use of them. These spices are cinnamon, star anise, cloves, fennel seeds and numbing pepper, and together they lift all elven dishes to a much higher culinary level than their peers, save perhaps for the Jianger-Kaan. The Puzu fishermen also produce fish sauce from the lakefish, which provide a much needed umami boost to otherwise uninteresting meats. While the Huangzu and Puzu are radically different in terms of social standing, their diets haven’t diverged too much during their 100-200 years of separation, the larger differences being mainly due to differences in wealth. A day typically starts with a piece of fried fish, a bowl of rice and a bowl of hot soup or light porridge, like millet gruel. The nobility will usually have long, drawn-out breakfasts with tea instead of soup or porridge, which they’ll drink for nearly two hours every day. Puzu farmers may downplay the fish in favour of more carbohydrates in the form of more rice, corn or Esterling bread. Lunch to the Puzu is similar to the riverfolk’s - around midday, most Puzu Elves will head to the nearest tavern or inn (or foodstall, if they work in a city) to have grilled duck, chili-cooked fish, soy-braised beef and more, served with cold noodles in a vinegary soup and bok choy woked in oil. The Huangzu have a similar diet, but the quality is substantially improved upon, and the food is often served with wine brewed from rice, wheat or fruit and supplemented with cakes and sweets. Seeing as they never leave the palace complexes, they never get to experience the outside foodstalls of Shi’s streets. Supper is eaten at home, typically consisting of spicy fish, beef or pork served with a side of rice and chopped lotus cores, if they can afford it. If not, the lotus cores are swapped for bok choy or spinach. After supper, even Puzu elves enjoy a long break with hot tea and, if they can afford it, sweets in the form of pineapple cakes or biscuits. Huangzu will typically towards the end of the day bring out heavier wines if the occasion calls for it (if it doesn’t, some will make an occasion), brewed in great clay pits for a whole year. The product is known as baijiu. Southern Cuisine (Druïtha and Draconian): The Druïtha kitchens are perhaps the dullest, seen from the perspective of the rest of the country. Many Druïtha eat their food raw and unprocessed, and small groups hold on to ancient traditions that forbid them from eating anything they haven’t caught themselves, which makes their eating patterns erratic. The majority, however, have taken to northern cultural influence and cook their food in manners resembling the Guzu and Esterling cuisines. For breakfast, Druïtha typically eat fruit and nuts to start the day. If they have access to it, they may also eat dried meats or drink millet gruel. However, the distance between towns is long in Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama, so inter-village trade is typically erratic and unpredictable. Lunch provides the Druïtha with one of their main protein sources: fried silkworms. Typically served in a bowl by themselves or on rice if available, these provide a much needed protein boost in an otherwise wanting diet. Many choose to drink this with coconut water or a local drink known as éonimhir, which is milk mixed with animal blood, commonly boar or cow, if available. Supper consists of additional fats in the form of nuts and sugars from fruits, nowadays typically fried and tossed with soy sauce, rice and bits of bird or rabbit meat.
Draconians, on the other hand, are carnivores, and eat meat imported from neighbouring provinces or whatever they can catch in the lands bordering the desert.
Education for everyone is among the chief accomplishments of Emperor Yandi. After the Imperial Academy was founded in 759 by Emperor Guxiong as a way of educating Guzu elves to become proper bureaucrats, the only applicants to be accepted were Huangzu. In 768, five years after Emperor Guxiong had been overthrown by Yandi of the Wu dynasty, the Emperor decreed that Puzu and even human nobility would also be allowed to attend, provided they could pay for their own tuition. By 770, all restrictions on race and class were removed and whomsoever had the means could send their sons to attend the academy (women are not allowed to attend still). Students who are enrolled begin their studies at eight years old. There they are given a bed in a twelve-man dormitory, which they will sleep in for the next ten years of their education. Classes begin at dawn and finish at sundown, after which the student will be given assignments, usually in the form of essays, poetry, painting, speechcraft or reading and reciting. In a seven day week, students are given one day off, which better be spent studying if they want to pass the year.
Syllabus:
Year 1-4: The student is taught to read and write guwen. By year two, they are expected to be able to read and write commentaries showing understanding of old poems and essays; by year three, articles and philosophical documents. Guanyan is the oral language used in teaching and the students no longer have dedicated classes to oral guanyan after year three; by that time, they are expected to know it fluently. At the end of year four, each student is given an exam which involves remembering ten passages from a set of essays and articles written by the royal family throughout Guzu history. The list changes every year and the exam form is recitation of the passages to a panel of three teachers. Remembering at least seven out of the ten passages flawlessly by heart is a requirement to pass; however, a passing grade is rarely considered good enough. Year 5-8: After passing the final exam of year four, students are taught imperial history, philosophy, mathematics, natural sciences, astrology, medicine, military theory, literature and politics. They are given access to the Academy library and study halls and encouraged to delve into literature outside of what they focus on in class. During these years, each semester has an exam at the end which tests a subset of everything the students have learned throughout the semester, culminating in a final exam at the end of the eighth year which challenges the student to demonstrate their knowledge of everything in an oral presentation before their teachers in each subject. The students are given the final two months of the final semester to prepare, and each exam may last a period of time based on an hourglass used by the teachers (roughly an hour and a half). In order to pass, the student must adequately present the subjects’ most important lessons with examples and answer any questions posed by the teachers without fault. Any deviations from this may result in a failure. Year 9-10: By this point, the student is considered adept at the key subjects that a statesman is expected to know. During the final two years, students are to begin work on their final thesis which will be presented at the Literature Festival. The student is free to choose his subject from those he’s been taught in the years at the Academy, even being allowed to compose his own work of poetic literature. The most commonly chosen subjects, however, are medicine and history. Philosophy is a subject students commonly start with, until their supervisor berates them for challenging the official imperial doctrine, at which point their careers may be in danger. At the end of the tenth year, the student presents his work to his supervisor and receives feedback and a final evaluation of their school performance as a whole. The evaluation takes into account three criteria: Academic performance, overall conduct and degree of expression of Guzu gentlemanliness, so-called junzi. It should be noted that to fail at any exam, even semester exams, automatically leads to expulsion with no recompensation for already paid tuition that now will be lost. However, tuition is a yearly expense, so to fail in the beginning of the year is a lot worse than to fail at the end. A student is allowed to enroll at the Academy and fail a total of two times, though most who fail the first time never return on account of both the academic and economic pressure. All books and tools used for tuition are to be paid by the student himself or the student’s family. The Academy provides only rice paper to write on. Theft is not uncommon, but punishable by beatings or, if the offense is grave enough, expulsion.
Junzi - the Elven Gentleman:
Junzi is a key term repeated throughout the whole education process. In addition to a formal education, the student is also taught the cultural aspects of the junzi - the ideal gentleman, portraying every quality expected of a man of the Gu-Wei state. Early on, students are taught the importance of diligence in one’s work and to avoid temptations like bullying, cheating and procrastination. However, due to the immense pressure to succeed as well as a thorough culture of competition, the former two are typically ignored unless the culprits are caught. Students are then taught the proper way to dress and address classmates, superiors, royalty, women, children and many more. They are taught to use self-deprecating pronouns about themselves and respectful, uplifting words to address others. Finally, students are taught proper form when greeting, writing, eating, bowing, kowtowing and more. As students grow older and master the basic concepts of a proper student, they are taught to express themselves before crowds, how to develop a sense of charisma and rhetoric, and traditions for bestowing gifts and arranging feasts and buying food and drink. They are taught to distinguish poor wine from good, and what sorts of food are acceptable when hosting other statesmen, superiors, subjects and royalty. They are taught to lead, and a select few exceptional students are given opportunities to lead social or construction-related projects in or around Shi.
Guzu architecture is one which has spread through the realm with great success, being adopted by the majority of ethnic groups throughout the realm. Typical traits for buildings is bilateral symmetry to signify balance and harmony, as well as strict adherence to the four winds: The city of Shi is built like a grid in that all buildings either face the south or the east. While this system fall apart towards the city fringes in the slum areas, the emphasis on city planning has spread to newer cities throughout the whole realm.
Buildings are typically built on slightly raised platforms. The main material used is wood, though larger structures such as temples, palaces, governmental offices and forts are primarily constructed from dark gray clay bricks or stone. The roofs are commonly supported by large wooden beams, and the timber frames used to keep the structure’s integrity connect primarily through joinery and dowelling alone - nails, glue or other adhesives are seldom needed. Walls are typically thin and movable as sliding doors, as the beams carry all the weight of the roof. The roof itself is gaubled with inclines ending in points at the tips. This style of building now dominates new architecture throughout the realm, with two types of housing complexes being the most common.
The courtyard (yuan): A small enclosure typically reserved for one family, containing houses for servants, kitchens, stables (if the family has the means), sleeping quarters, studies, dining hall and more, all surrounding a central courtyard with a paved core surrounded by grass and flowers. The yuan is built facing the south to absorb as much sunlight as possible, while the northern winds blowing in from the Midland Sea are left blowing at the back wall of the house.
The sky well (tianjing): More common in the west and south, where the heat gets intense in the summers. The tianjing is a large, circular (or rectangular) building complex that houses a community of multiple families. The term “sky well” comes from the large open courtyard in the centre of the complex, which allows for ventilation. Furthermore, the roofs cave inwards so rainwater may be collected in a well in the centre of the complex.
The architecture is particularly popular in the west, where is has largely replaced the traditional bamboo huts the riverfolk used to live in. Today, cities like Jiangla, Jianger, Kaan and Dosr-Ung are centres of Guzu city planning and expansion.
In the east, the architecture is prominent, but due to an already strong urban population, many of the cities have failed to adopt Guzu-style city planning, expanding in more natural sprawls. Furthermore, some local Esterling groups regularly express their preference for their people’s traditional stone huts. These share a limited number of traits with the Guzu architecture.
Druïtha architecture has adopted the fewest traits from the Guzu, taking a rather conservative approach to housing in general. Druïtha traditionally live in burrows between the roots of their sacred groves, the deepest of which stretch nearly fifty ten down into the ground, or in small huts fashioned from mud. However, due to increasing influence from their neighbours, more and more Druïtha move closer to Hi-Dûna in Dûna-de-Hama province in hopes that they may live in an actual houses. These typically belong to the younger generations, which are heavily condemned by their elders in Caitir in Druïthim province. Caitir is the largest Druïtha settlement which does not contain a single house. It is a collection of holy groves and home to several thousands who live in burrows or just around in the trees. The temperature makes heating obsolete, so the inhabitants need only protection from the elements, which the trees will occasionally be able to grant by themselves.
The Gu-Weian military is largely reliant on conscription for the majority of their armed forces, the base for which consists of a subset of every ethnic group in the realm except the Druïtha. Roughly 210 000 individuals are professional soldiers and mainly occupy themselves with maintaining the borders or keeping the peace. These professional soldiers are typically trained at a regional military base from the age of fifteen, and most remain soldiers throughout their whole lives. The salary for a Gu-Weian soldier starts at twenty bei a day and increases by ten with every five years of service time, encouraging prolonged stay (up to a limit of 80 bei a day, enough for oneself and one’s family to live quite comfortable in a lesser townhouse or at a large farmstead in the countryside if they spent nothing else for a year). Many soldiers send their money home to their families through the imperial postal service, but a fair number also live as kings by themselves in peace time. The salary for conscripted soldiers is considerably lower, topping out at three bei at the most - this is, however, still more than most businesses can afford to pay their workers. As a whole, the majority of Gu-Weian military funds go to their navy: Guzu warships are typically large and well-staffed with skilled archers and lethal artillery; this does make them extremely expensive, however, and is one of the key reasons as to why they cannot sustain a larger standing army.
The chain of command in the Gu-Wei army is divided into four levels: The head of command, the commanding ground officers, assisting officers and veteran troops. These have different names depending on which section of the military they belong to:
Navy: Admiral - Fleet Commander - Ship Captain - Phoenixes of the Blue Flames. The admiral functions as an overall commander and director of all naval forces, delegating orders to the fleet commander, who acts these out with the subset of ships granted to him. Each ship is commanded by a captain, and each crew ideally has a small squadron of Phoenixes, elite warriors whose experience serves to guide the conscripts in a conflict.
Army and cavalry: General - Commander - Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Red Flame. Both of these sections are led by the same commanders: Generals who lay down battleplans and delegate orders to their commanders. Commanders oversee a section of the army, like the cavalry or the infantry, and have a large number of lieutenants to move smaller companies according to the generals’ plans. Making up the bulk of the elite cavalry, as well as the main sources of experience to pass on to the conscripts, are Phoenixes of the Red Flame.
Artillery: General - Artillery Commander - Archer-Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame. The generals analyse enemy positions and the surrounding terrain - locations of forests, canyons, hilltops and so on - and draft up plans for placement of archers, crossbowmen, catapults and rocket artillery. The artillery commander delegates the troops and equipment accordingly, typically sending archer-lieutenants into forests with a company of archers to ambush the enemy early on before retreating while larger artillery, commanded either by the commanders or by the generals themselves, bombard the enemy giving chase. Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame are the military’s rangers, elites specialising in assassinations, stealth and scouting out terrain and enemy positions.
The key requirement to sit in the chain of command (Phoenixes exempt) is to have completed an education at the Imperial Academy and to have focused one’s final thesis on military theory. To apply for a position at the chain of command, one’s thesis will be read and evaluated. If found satisfactory, the candidate will be given the rank of cadet and put through a three year intensive training program at a selected military institutions that delves deeper into warfare as a subject. The cadet learns of the various different battlefields throughout the realm; he learns to fight to a degree (though this is expected to be trained on one’s own accord); he learns to ride horses, navigate ships and to survive in the wild. At graduation, the cadet is promoted to the assisting officer rank. However, only those of the Huangzu can ever be promoted to the rank of general or admiral. This assures that the command of the military always stays in the hands of the imperial family.
Phoenix is the highest rank a professional soldier can reach without attending the Imperial Academy. It is given to soldiers who have served in the army for at least fifteen years. They are given the highest salary and the military will subsidise their enrollment at the Imperial Academy if they wish. Their rank gives them limited command, up to one company (100 soldiers), and they may take act as mentors for other soldiers to help them become phoenixes. Armourers, weaponsmiths and bowyers all line up to prepare equipment for Phoenixes on account of their deep pockets.
The Navy is the core of the Gu-Weian armed forces, centred around the use of great warjunks manned by archers and armed with heavy artillery like three-stringed ballistae, catapults and rocket artillery, flanked by lesser ships manned by more archers and boarding crews. The warjunks are plated around the edges of the deck and the deck is constantly kept wet during combat to avoid fireworks sparks setting the ship aflame. While the vessels are incredibly dangerous at a distance, the warjunks are very vulnerable up close - especially to fire ships and fire arrows. The lesser ships are therefore tasked with keeping assailants away from the warjunks.
Gu-Weian cavalry is small and underfunded on account of the empire’s terrain. While the bare open areas around Shi allow for cavalry charges and even chariots, the vast majority of the land within Gu-Wei borders is unsuitable for wagons or shock attacks on account of being too densely forested or too soft of ground. Still, a small number of elites make up an elite group of cataphracts, tasked with defending the generals on the field and flanking enemy forces if possible. Cataphracts are heavy cavalry armed with lances and coated in thick armour to withstand even arrow fire. Furthermore, the wetlands dwellers of the west have tried to get around the issue of horses by replacing them with water buffalo, which fare considerably better as wetland mounts. They aren't as fast, of course, but they are faster in their environment than any horse would be. While chariots are being slowly phased out along with the remainder of the cavalry, they are still used in races and to a very limited degree in warfare to carry around officers and wounded.
Gu-Weian infantry contains the fewest professionals of any military section. Being nearly entirely conscripted, the infantry are typically far from skilled, consisting of peasant levies given halberds and very light armour and tasked with keeping the enemy armies away from the artillery. Typical weapons include the ji halberd and spears.
Artillery is to a large extent considered the pride of the military, regardless of its size relative to other sections, as well as the amount of funds spent on it. This is in large part due to the advances in fire and powder-based weaponry. Black powder is made with Esterling charcoal, saltpeter made using bat guano found in the various ancient Druïtha burrows in the Heartlands, and sulfur harvested from salt pits in the southern regions. Artillery has the second fewest number of professionals, the vast majority of soldiers being conscripts given bows and crossbows. Siege weaponry comes in the form of triple crossbows, catapults with various forms of ammunition, and rocket artillery. The triple crossbow packs enough of a punch to pierce fortified stone walls, and the rocket artillery will set alight any city built with thatch roofs. The catapult is typically loaded with balls of hay rolled in pitch and lit aflame.
The Gu-Wei state have a number of heavily fortified positions throughout the land, the majority of which are now staffed at a minimum. There can mainly be found within each regional capital and serve as a base of operation for local peacekeepers and soldiers. Some forts also lie on the borders - there’s one on the northern border with the Zentauri.
The governmental structure of Gu-Wei starts with the Emperor on the top, for he makes any and all ultimate decisions and his word is law. The majority of decisions made throughout the realm, however, are not important enough to reach so far up. At the very bottom are the various tribal chiefs and town mayors, whose role it is to run the villages and towns and make certain the tax collectors’ due is paid. Overseeing the chiefs and mayors is a centralised department of statesmen under the governor. These statesmen typically hold office in a larger city council, reporting all noteworthy details about daily affairs up to to the governor in the provincial capital. The governor, with the counsel of his council, then makes province-wide decisions on work plans, spending, local taxation, placement of peacekeepers and more.
Furthermore, governors function as local judges in court of law in high-level criminal cases, where they judge in accordance with imperial law. However, provincial laws and paragraphs can be added into consideration in certain areas. As an overall goal, stability and harmony in a province is paramount to a governor - instability in one’s region is looked upon as an outbreak of plague that must be contained at all costs. As such, the Emperor stresses that the government maintain a strong, yet not too invasive, presence in all provinces - the people should not live under a pressure that could foment within them thoughts of revolution, but they should know that such thoughts will be met with death.
For these reasons, the governor functions to a large degree as a diplomat between the Gu-Wei state and the myriad of ethnic groups within its borders. Most of the time, this goes without issue, as the peoples of the various regions are well-acquainted with the iron fist of the peacekeepers; however, on occasion, no harmonious solution can be found, at which point the governor will ask the Emperor for further instruction. Up until now, the most common solution has been culling of the uprisers.
It should be noted that while, as mentioned above, any male citizen can potentially become a governor, it is incredibly hard to maintain one’s position as one without heartfelt conversion to the imperial doctrine. The Emperor keeps an office of scholars in every province whose job it is to ensure that the provincial governor himself remains loyal to the throne in Shi. This secret police is particularly active in Druïthim and Ithram, where the people demand that their governor be one of their own.
Due to the Emperor’s largely detached role in government beyond the occasional executive order, the Imperial family largely never leaves the palace of Shi, except to go to the summer palace in Red Clay province. This has continued for nearly a century, and those of the Imperial family not attached to the military (and even a number of those) have no concept of the actual state of the realm beyond their walls.
Gu-Wei religion is first divided in two: The Imperial Doctrine and the Honoured Faiths. The Imperial Doctrine, while primarily being a work to legitimise the rulership of the Huangzu, carries with it heavy religious symbolism that manifests itself as Guism, the worship and honouring of the Muha Empire and past Gu-Wei emperors. The Honoured Faiths are three broad generalisations of the Renzu faiths: Jiangjiao (riverfolk faith), dongjiao (eastern faith) and dujiao (Druïthism). Any other faith beyond these three is considered superstition and is forbidden from being practiced in the open. To control this, the state keeps tight control of all religious gatherings with the help of specialised peacekeepers familiar with local customs and rituals. Any deviations from these outside of the private home results in prison sentences.
In Guism, there are no gods, but ancient kings and heroes that have been venerated to godhood. There are to be given sacrifices in the form of food, commodities or live animals every month, lest they bring misfortune and instability upon the realm. The Month of the Ancestors is the most important time of the year. Since this religion is part of the Imperial Doctrine, all governors and students at the Imperial Academy are required to practice it. This has caused the majority of those in state positions, regardless of ethnicity, to pass on the faith to their family and peers. Today, Guism is the most widespread faith in the Empire, often mixing into local faiths.
While Guism has replaced many of the original deities in the ancient riverfolk faiths, the small collection of different, yet quite similar, sects spread throughout the riverlands keep a certain set of traditions that Guism has yet to wash out.
Veneration of livestock: All farm animals are sacred to the riverfolk, venerated for the food they give in the form of eggs, milk and meat, as well as for feathers, bones and hides. Animals are to be treated as well as people up until the point when they are to be slaughtered, which is done as quickly as possible to let the animal feel the minimum necessary amount of pain. The animal’s skull is then added to the family grave.
Reincarnation: The riverfolk believe that all living creatures have spirits which, upon the owner’s death, will enter a newborn somewhere else in the riverlands and continue its life until a new host must be found.
Along the northern borders of the riverlands, a small minority worships the Zentauri faith. These live in hiding as their faith is illegal under Imperial law.
Here, too, Guism has made a considerable dent in the local faiths. Luckily, the Guist concept of ancestral sacrifice to avoid misfortune coincides well with the native belief that not pleasing one’s family patron god or matron goddess will lead to the downfall of the whole clan. Esterlings, and to a certain degree Middlings, are incredibly proud of their heritage and clan identity is at times more important than wealth and position. This reflects itself in their religion, which almost universally operates by venerating their clan originator, whether that be an ancient mother or father. This person is referred to as a family’s patron god or matron goddess. While the concept used to go much deeper, with various rituals depending on the wishes behind the sacrifices, Guism has watered out many of the old rituals, and the two faiths are functionally the same with different semantics.
The exceptions to this rule can be found deep in the forests of eastern Origo and southern Ithram, where isolation from the outside world has preserved the ancient faiths of Esterling religion to the point where it no longer is considered part of the faith and instead supersition. These esterlings have public alters and arenas were different clans can publicly sacrifice and duel in the names of their patron and matron gods.
Druïthism is likely the most well-preserved faith on the whole among the ethnic religions. It has large geographic variations, but the general gist revolves around preservation of the sacred groves. The sacred groves are centres of communication between the mortal world and the divine beyond, according to the faith, and the whole society is structured around them. The most popular occupation for a Druïtha is that of the priest, which are respectively called druid and witch for man and woman. These are responsible for tending the groves, gathering food from around the forest and meditating on the nature of creation and life. Due to the scarceness of food in the region compared to their neighbours, Druïthism teaches asceticism for all its worshippers, both to keep them from sin (which for many is basically defined as anything their neighbours would do) and overconsumption.
What has created the largest rift between Druïthism and Guism is that Druïthism forbids its believers from seeking divinity from other sources than the sacred groves. This is why Druïtha who go to the Imperial Academy either keep up a convincing act or are forced to give up their faith and be forever shunned by their people.
Beyond these faiths, the Muckling faith is largely lost to time and is today considered superstition by the authorities. The Draconians to the south are given diplomatically-granted exceptions to the superstition rule, but their religions are not accepted anywhere else in the country beyond the regions of Drakka, Shajiang,the Deadlands and parts of Longway.
The Gu-Wei empire is, above all else, an empire built on internal and external trade. Despite the growing incompetence of the Imperial government, the economy of Gu-Wei is running incredibly strong. Being an agricultural powerhouse thanks to the riverlands to the west, Gu-Wei exports rice by the tons to the other countries of the continent, the most important customers being the Tsorodar to the south and the Thalassians to the east. Internally, the economy is fueled by the exchange of Esterling iron for riverfolk rice, most carried on Middling ships and transacted in Elven ports. The exploitation of Shajiang and Deadland salt is entirely nationalised by the state and distributed in exchange for a salt tax to avoid salt deficiency in the more populated areas of the country.
Luxury commodities also make up a sizeable chunk of the Gu-Wei economy, though these are largely traded internally. The most important luxury ware to the Gu-Wei is Druïtha silk, the value of the trade making up as much as a fifth of gross domestic product. It’s not only consumed at home, but also serves as an exception to the rule by being in great demand internationally, too. Demand is kept high by the slow-paced production, as well, so prices for silk remain higher still. The gemstone industries of the south make up a much smaller percentage of GDP, but are considered culturally important to the Guzu, and are thus artificially expensive despite the large deposits.
Being the main source of income for the state, the tax policy demands that every province offer a percentage of their quarterly production to the state’s use. This percentage varies depending on province and produce, with Red Clay paying up to three fifths of its iron produced per quarter on account of the massive scale of production, while Drakka pays measly ten percent of the crops they produce, as the overall yield is very low on account of poor soil. As the tax primarily affects communities rather than the individual, villages either grow closer or split apart; when the tax collector comes, one can either band together to pay or root out those who cannot contribute.
This method of taxation isn’t without its faults, and depending on what product is taxed, the tax collectors can cause local famines, tool shortages or loss of business. On more than one occasion have riverfolk villages starved because their crops are taxed, while Esterling villages’ larders are full as they pay their tax in iron.
Taxes is handled by a small ministry under the provincial governor, and everything they collect is stored in the provincial capital or in storehouses in other centres of commerce if the distance is too great.
As a whole, the government tries not to interfere too much with the regional trade, as the routes that already have been established already provide a most harmonious outcome. However, any ship bringing wares from another province must pay tariffs to the local provincial government before they may bring their wares onto the dock. These tariffs vary depending on the ware, with the grain tariffs being practically non-existent and the tariffs on Elven jewelry being so high that it’s almost improfitable to sell them to anyone but the richest of nobles. This also counts for international trade, with tariffs on Tsorodar minerals being lowered as a show of good faith.
Tsorodar sugarcane is almost like a drug to the Gu-Wei nobles, and is in the highest demand. Honey makes a close second, as the smokey flavours of southern honey is especially popular among the riverland gentry and nobility. Minerals like salt, iron, copper and others are also important. FInally, due to its properties of being thinner and translucent, Tsorodar silk is occasionally bought to be used in speciality products, such as hems, veils and undergarments.
Legend:
Orange dot with black centre: Imperial capital
Orange dot with red centre: Provincial capital
Orange dot without centre: Large settlement with at least 500 000 inhabitants.
On the map, the province names are written as they are referred to by their local populations. However, the Guzu refer to them by their names in guanyan. These are:
Beiguokou (N. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Dosr-Ung. Second most populous province in the country. Drier than the south, but still quite humid. Largely flat.
Nanguokou (S. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Jiangla. Most populous province in the country. Incredibly humid and warm with soil fertility that is replenished every year by floods. Flat.
Longwei (Longway): Provincial capital is Longway. Hot and humid region with the majority of its population being concentrated in the north. Dries out the further south you go. Borders Tsorodar. Hilly towards the south.
Longjia (Drakka): Provincial capital is Tazakk. Dry and hostile environment that supports a small group of Draconians, largely immigrants and escapees from Tsorodar.
Jiangdi (Jianger): Provincial capital is Jianger. Hot region with occasional dry seasons caused by desert winds. A centre for growth of grapes, dates and wheat. Heavily forested in the north.
Guoxin (Heartlands): Provincial capital is Chang’an. Heavily populated in the north with almost no permanent settlements in the south. Largely reliant on the Midland Sea for proteins and fats, but also produces large yields of agriculture and livestock products in the northern half. Very warm with cooling lake winds in the north.
Shiwei (Greater Shi): Provincial capital is Shi. The capital province and home to the largest city in the empire. Has little to no proper food production by itself and is entirely reliant on imports from its surrounding provinces. The fringes of Greater Shi are home to farms akin to those found in the Heartlands, but these don’t come close to producing the amount of food necessary to feed the capital. The majority of the province consists of small towns and villages surrounding the capital proper.
Duyi (Druïthim): Provincial capital is Caitir. The whole province is one great, largely untouched jungle. Simultaneously the richest province on account of the silk trade, and the poorest as almost all of the profits are collected by the provincial governor in Caitir. Incredibly warm and humid.
Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama): Provincial capital is Hi-Dûna. The home province of the only Druïtha trading port, through which almost 99% of all silk produced in the realm flows. A great deal of the previously untouched jungle here has been removed to make way for the steadily expanding provincial capital, as well as other villages which house Esterling immigrant workers.
Dasha (The Deadlands): Provincial capital is Sandcleft. The second least populated province, though an incredibly important one. Home to the largest salt mine in the empire, the Deadlands large serve as a penal province for prisoners and slaves. Rocky and dry, it contains vast gem mines, as well, making it an incredibly rich province despite its purpose.
Shajiang (Shajiang): Provincial capital is Graystone Keep. The least populated province. Shajiang also carries a status as a penal province, but whereas the Deadlands actually attracts a few law-abiding citizens on account of some fertile land in the north, Shajiang is nearly completely without fertile land, relying on food from Origo to sustain itself. Its main exports are salt and gems.
Nandi (Sunnaland): Provincial capital is Norrabi. An agricultural centre in the east, Sunnabi serves as the main source of food for the citizens of Dûna-de-Hama and much of the east. While they don’t have the same fertile soil replenishment as the Riverlands, much of the realm’s food is produced here.
Zhongdi (Midland): Provincial capital is Midta. Most populated province in the east, though in large part because of how the border is drawn. The provincial capital is the second largest trade port after Shi. Temperate and comfortably warm towards the north with much warmer and more humid regions in the sound.
Hongtu (Red Clay): Provincial capital is Amarra. Centre of Esterling industry and home of the largest forge-city, Amarra. The province name comes from the iron-rich soil, which collects and forms rust deposits in the various swamps and bogs. Wet and humid landscape.
Wugu (Origo): Provincial capital is Longon. A province which prosperity is divided near-perfectly down the middle: The west is advanced and well-connected to the rest of the empire; the east is considered backwards and underdeveloped, many living in much the same way as their ancestors did centuries ago. This is due to the nigh sudden appearance of thick forests halfway through the province, and these endless woods now feed a powerful charcoal industry in the province.
Yilan (Ithram): Provincial capital is Estenkampt. Like Origo, Ithram is also considered quite backwards as more than sixty percent of its landmass is covered in nearly impenetrable jungle. The provincial capital sits, however, on the rivers connected to old Muha, so it’s considered a vital part of the empire’s cultural exchange with its roots.
Legend:
Skyblue stripes: Wetlands.
Green stripes: Dense forests.
Blue stripes on the Midland Sea: Fishing grounds.
Red-marked gray triangles: Iron deposit.
Blue-marked gray triangles: Gem deposit.
White-marked gray triangles: Salt pit.
Green dots: Sacred Druïtha grove.
The west is endless fertile wetland: easy to defend, impossible to attack. The heartlands and south-centre are comprised of thick, impenetrable forests that offer little aid to any larger force. This impedes development in the area severely and trade within the region is rare and difficult. Typical crops include rice, wheat, soy, eggplants, cabbage, carrots, corn, peas, scallions, pineapples, coconuts and many more.
The east is a province rich in natural iron deposits littered throughout the multitude of swamps and bogs. The so-called ‘iron sludge’ is a staple of the province. There is also a charcoal industry to feed the fires of the forge-cities. Crops grown include wheat, millet, carrots, soy, bok choy and many more. Additionally, there is a small pipeweed industry in the fringes of the territory, though these aren’t legal under imperial law.
The south and southeast are areas poor in terms of food and water, but rich in jewels, salt and other minerals. To a large extent, these are provinces for slaves, Draconians and other creatures ill-suited for the rest of the empire’s core.
The Midland Sea offers much in terms of trade routes and fish.
There are various monsters throughout the realm, especially deep inside the forests of Ithram, Origo and Druïthim. These have never been recorded by Imperial statesmen, however, and are therefore considered by the Empire’s nobles to be the product of local superstitions.
In terms of regular beasts, the central realm is home to tigers and rhinos, many of which are hunted for their hides and bones. The forests of Druïthim are supposedly home to several herds of jungle elephant, but due to overhunting, these haven’t been seen for years.
The Gloch’ach’ribb: A small group of rebellious Mucklings in the slums of Shi. In secret, these rebels seek to unite their scattered people and carve out a homeland for the Mucklings somewhere by the Midland Sea. They work through hidden gatherings in the unspeakable ghettos through which none of the city guards dare or care to patrol. There, these Mucklings gather whatever weapons, tools, food and materials they can smuggle away from work so they one day can bring about their revolution. The Gloch’ach’ribb is currently unknown to the imperial forces, and the Mucklings very much aim to keep it that way. They are led by the youngest shaman among their kind, Ribbigus Croak, a youth of nineteen who apprenticed under the last true Muckling high priest, Uch’sochoch Frokk.
The Commission on Local Faiths and Customs (the Commission): A secret police dedicated to control the religious beliefs of the empire’s populations. They have known offices in every major city throughout the realm, but the majority of their membres live as undercover spies among the citizens. The organisation is managed and led by Puzu nobles elected by the Emperor, but the spies are human, various individuals who have either been bribed, beaten or blackmailed into service. A third group within the organisation are known as Inquisitors, who upon the discovery of illegal superstition will to the best of their ability see to it that it is never seen again. One final mission the Commission is tasked with is hiding the existence of monsters. They do this not by exterminating them, but by silencing whomsoever spreads word of their existence.
The Alchemists’ Guild: A suborganisation of the Imperial Academy, the Alchemists’ Guild are the minds behind the Gu-Wei weapons development and study of medicine. Made mainly up of Puzu Elves with a small subset of humans, they pursue military and natural research in the cellars of the Imperial Academy. They are not a secret organisation, but a number of their projects require discretion.
The Blue Phoenix Company: The largest shipping and trading company in Midland, responsible for nearly half of all ware transports in the realm. Their company headquarters is located in Midta and their shipping fleet is the largest one belonging to a single company, even outnumbering the old Royal Trading Fleet, simply to the point where the Empire has hired the Blue Phoenix Company on a long-term contract. The head of the company is Lord Unsur Quam (Yunsu Kuan in guanyan), a Middling nobleman with tight connections to the governors of both Shi and Midland and, though it’s not proven, the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
Snaketongue Slavers: The Snaketongue Slavers is a small family of Draconians who have been given permission to oversee the extraction of minerals in the Deadlands and Shajiang provinces, headed by the Bozak Zakkhashar (Sha Kushang in guanyan), a ruthlessly calculating individual with little sense for other things beyond efficiency and profits. While Zakkhashar’s ancestors used to hunt and catch humans, elves, Draconian runaways and kobolds and employ them as slaves, the slavers have a prisoner exchange agreement with the Gu-Wei government, so that all prisoners sentenced to a life in prison will be sent to the penal provinces to work. That way, they receive an almost constant stream of slaves to replace those who die in the heat of the deserts.
Tiger’s Fang Triads: Criminal organisation located in Midta. When Midta became the second largest trading port in the empire, it also grew into an arena within which outcompeting one’s rivals could mean the difference between prosperity and bankruptcy. This is where the Tiger’s Fang comes in - originally a group of thugs hired by firms to disrupt competition, it has since grown into an organised institution in the trade city’s underworld, whose support in vital when pursuing trade deals, profits or even the position as local governor. Today, the Tiger’s Fang runs a multitude of prostitution rings, winehouses, gambling dens and debt collection firms. After the Blue Phoenix Company, theirs is the second largest business presence in the region, making them practically untouchable to the local peacekeepers through bribes, threats and loopholes in local laws. Has a fierce rivalry with the Black Dragon Triads. Led by a council of Middling oligarchs known as the Eight.
Black Dragon Triads: Criminal organisation based in Shi. While not as large as the Tiger’s Fang, the Black Dragon Triads have a number of friends in considerably higher places, rumoured to even have connections to Prince Yanqiang. The Black Dragon Triads started their endeavours as thugs in a past governor’s employ, tasked with silencing rivals and critics. In the governor’s employ, they grew from a simple group of ruffians to a small army with deep ties to pipeweed and wine distribution. When the governor who had employed them eventually grew frightened of them, the triads had him replaced with another. Even while they are right under the nose of the imperial family, the triads’ connection to the prince makes them untouchable. Has a fierce rivalry with the Tiger's Fang Triads. The head of the organisation is a Puzu nicknamed ‘the Immortal’.
Emperor Yandi of the Wu Dynasty: Previously seen as a genius reformer mature for the throne, the last century hasn’t been kind to him. Over the course of the last hundred years, rivalry at court, the loss of his favourite concubine and a growing fascination for lecherous behaviour has led the emperor to shirk his duties as a leader and instead pursue the women of the court. Race: Guzu Elf (Huangzu). Family:
Prince Yanri: Eldest son and heir. An ambitious character with little love for his father. A prodigy in the field of statecraft, the prince does whatever he can in his power to keep the empire from crumbling from his father’s incompetency - at least, enough for the other nobles to see, anyway.
Prince Yanqiang: Youngest son, being born of Yandi’s deceased concubine, Songyan. A general of the imperial army at a very young age, Yanqiang lived his whole life in luxury. For a general, he is incredibly rash and foolhardy, faithfully believing in the supremacy of archaic tactics and frequently ignoring the importance of terrain and elements. He’s addicted to pipeweed and tries to keep it a secret, along with his relationship to his supplier, the Black Dragon Triads.
Queen Liansong: Wife. Daughter of the old emperor Guxiong and is in truth quite hateful towards the current dynasty. She believes her husband to be weak and secretly has an affair with her son, Yanri.
Taomei: Elder sister. A doting character who explicitly wishes for the emperor to take her as his concubine. Currently in charge of the winter palace in Red Clay, from where she writes and sends love letters to her brother.
Princess Wanmei: Eldest daughter. A young, naïve and spoiled girl infatuated with her elder brother Yanri. She frequently aids him in his schemes for the throne.
All Huangzu. At the very least, every Huangzu are cousins. Ever since Guxiong divided the elves into Huangzu and Puzu, no new blood has entered the royal pool.
Wu Liren, governor of Greater Shi: Also the principal of the Imperial Academy. A fantastically wise Puzu scholar with friends in the dark corners of the capital. He owes much of his status today to the Black Dragon Triads and frequently looks the other way whenever they wish to spread a little disorder.
Zhang Mozhang, governor of the Heartlands: A morally just and, some say, incorruptible Puzu statesman, strongly faithful to the emperor and his duties. Diligent in his work and humble in his act, Zhang is an exemplary governor, and the Heartlands prosper as a result.
Dosr im Khammed (Dushu Kang), governor of the Northern Riverlands: An estate farmer whose parents worked their way up from a small patch of land to a grand chateau in the northern riverlands. Charismatic and generous, Khammed is fond of spoiling his friends with gifts and banquets. Hopefully, he doesn’t grow too fond of it.
Bast im Ratinmaar (Ba Ran-ma), governor of the Southern Riverlands: Son of a long lineage of ancient riverland kings, Ratinmaar’s life has been enveloped in luxuries and expectations. Long before he was eligible to apply to the Academy, his family had mentors from Shi come to prepare him for his education. Ratinmaar has been molded into the ideal scholar, and while he serves his people well, there are speculations as to when this overworked statesman will snap under all the stress.
Jianger min Agung (Jiangdi Gong), governor of Jianger: Smart, handsome and charismatic, Agung is both well-liked and well-positioned. A good diplomat and able sailor, though at times overly in love with the flask.
Longway mi Ismaya (Longwei Ma), governor of Longway: A shadier character who’s been in power of Longway for quite a number of years. He keeps his head low to avoid drawing attention to his province and particularly the illegal production of pipeweed in the south.
Dai Borzalik (Bozan Dai), governor of Drakka: A Bozak born and raised on the Gu-Wei side of the border. Strict, earnest and calculating. Has a tense rivalry with Zakkishtahar and the Snaketongue Slavers to the east.
Áed the Pale (Bai Ye), governor of Druïthim: A majorly corrupt Druïthim whose pockets are full of wealth embezzled from the silk industry. The Commission makes certain to keep him well-bribed so they functionally can restrict more and more the cultural diversity of Druïthim.
Zakkishtahar (Zan Shita), governor of the Deadlands: Elder brother of the leader of the Snaketongue Slavers, Zakkhashar. His ties to his brother and the slavers makes him inclined to grant them quite a bit of autonomy, and to a large degree, the organisation owns the whole province.
Wang Ritian, governor of Dûna-de-Hama: An unpopular Puzu governor with little support from his subjects on account of his ethnicity. Wang has made numerous attempts to relate to the local Druïthim, but he struggles immensely.
Bonursan Sunna (Sun Boshan), governor of Midland: A wealthy, well-educated merchant with a tight connections to both the Tiger’s Fang Triads and the Blue Phoenix Company. Due to his powerful friends, he is often forced to appease them over the affairs of the city.
Ramansun Nomir (Numin Ran), governor of Sunnaland: Comes from a family of shipbuilders. Favoured by his subjects for his love of his province, Ramansun has grown somewhat condescending towards his neighbours of late, believing Sunnaland to be the beating heart of the region and the cornerstone of the Imperial Navy.
Pontansun Urmir (Yunmin Po), governor of Origo: Industrialist to the core, Pontasun relishes in the idea to expansion of the charcoal and iron productions.
Sun Zinong, governor of Shajiang: Highly corrupt Puzu elf who hates his station in the south. The only joy he finds in his work is the vast amount of wealth the gem and salt extraction bring into his pockets.
Honursan Yomir (Yongmin Shan), governor of Red Clay: Comes from the largest family of iron smelters in the east. Dedicated to upholding his family name of Yo and thus fiercely protects his own and his family’s honoured through duels and other means.
Ethensen Uramar (Yunman Sen), governor of Ithram: A rebellious character whose many years in office have made him hostile to the the central state.
Ribbigus Croak: The youngest Muckling shaman to ever live. Leader of the Gloch’ach’ribb. A fiery spirit with a fierce hate for everything not Muckling. Having grown up in the slums of Shi, Ribbigus knows well the toils of slavery. Now, he seeks to unite his scattered people and lead an exodus away from the Gu-Wei and into a new land promised by the sages of old.
Sun On-Yee: A low-level thug in the Tiger’s Fang Triads. An orphaned teenager without prospects in life, this street rat of Midta quickly caught the eye of the triads for his fierceness in fighting. Without any other family, On-Yee has been adopted by the triads and now seek to rise up from the bottom to claim his place in the world.
Teppen im Majapar: A veteran of many smaller rebellions, Majapar is one of the Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame, an exceptional archer and ranger. Unfortunately, he is in the employ of Prince Yanqiang, and has frequently been berated for his criticisms of the Prince's tactical failures. He currently holds the unofficial title as "master of the latrines" in Fort Blackhoof by the Zentauri border.
Bilanmar min Gyonja: A chief in a small Jianger-Kaan village called Bilanmar. Distrustful of the Gu-Wei government on account of them not doing anything to solve the constant odd disappearances in his and the nearby villages, no matter how many times they tell the central authorities.
A lake- and riverfaring empire with a long history situated south of the Midland Sea.
The imperial family and the court are mostly comprised of Elves, with a few lower positions being held by humans and, in the southern settlements, draconians. The most populated areas of the empire, the riverlands and lakelands, are home to mainly humans and mucklings.
Gu-Wei is a hereditary empire that claims to trace its heritage all the way back to ancient Muha.
Their proximity to and mastery of the lake and its rivers makes them an able trading empire. The state is dependent on the grain, fish and fabric trade for its income. The currency used is the gu-weian bei, small metal shards with holes in the centre.
The nation speaks a multitude of languages with no standardisation efforts beyond the requirement to speak guanyan, or ‘official speak’, when applying for a position at court. The written word is known as guwen and is largely standardised in the governmental positions. Guanyan is also being used by traders as a lingua franca.
Population: 14 million with a total army size of 210 000 professional soldiers.
Wealth: Rich, but disparities are considerable.
Espionage: Poor.
Elves (Huangzu): A ruling minority of elves claiming to descend for the nobles of Muhakim. They are typically tall and fair of skin, naturally lean and almost enchantingly beautiful. The Huangzu elves hold all upper positions of government, including the position as the royal family. Their numbers are few, however, and what little their supposed heritage knew about magic has long since been watered out of the bloodline. Today, this ruling minority suffers a multitude of issues related to inbreeding and mind-sicknesses. An emperor akin to those from the olden days has not been seen for centuries.
Elves (Puzu): A larger group of peasant and gentry elves that hold smaller areas of land around the capital. Physically, they are quite similar to the Huangzu, with the exception of typically more colour variations of the skin, shorter ears and more rugged features. These are considered noble enough to hold lower positions of government, with the worthiest even being allowed to serve at the royal courts. However, interbreeding between the huangzu and puzu is considered taboo.
Humans (Renzu): The decisively largest single group in the empire, though its internal diversity is much greater than what government reports would have the emperor believe. The renzu is actually comprised of four smaller ethnic groups of humans found throughout the riverlands, lakelands and forests. In their own tongues, there are:
The Jianger-Kaan: Once a loose coalition of river tribes in the western wetlands, the Jianger-Kaan now make up a sizeable portion of the Gu-Wei population. Their homeland, the Guokou riverlands, are among the most fertile areas of the entire empire, and are thus simultaneously the most raided and most well-guarded area of the country. The Jianger-Kaan are themselves varied within, with skin and hair colour ranging from bronze to black, generally hard-worked and stocky builds, and close ties to the local water buffalo. Due to their importance to the empire as a whole, the Jianger-Kaan are well respected even among the elves, and are allowed a great deal of autonomy.
The Middlings: This group of humans are native to the lakelands, and have a presence all around the Midland Sea; however, only a few clans actually swear fealty to the Gu-Weian emperor. They aren’t as numerous as the Jianger-Kaan, but what they lack in numbers, they make up for in tradeskills, particularly in shipscraft and fishnet spinning. They known the lake and its rivers well, and also make up the bulk of the empire’s trading fleet. However, they are often disliked by the nobility for being opportunistic and profiteering, and typically suffer discrimination as a result. The Middlings typically have bronze or golden skin and black hair, and the males often grow long facial hair.
The Druïtha: Native to the thick forests of the central empire, the Druïtha are a simple group of various woodland tribes. Their culture has heavy elements of nature worship and emphasis on an ascetic lifestyle. While they more than often present a barrier for expansionist governors seeking to prospect for natural resources in the many sacred groves, the Druïtha have made themselves invaluable to the empire by sharing their secrets of silk production. While the people themselves are typically superstitious and easily aggravated, their skill in fabrics production has made the empire incredibly rich. Therefore, they are allowed great freedom of religion, movement and rights. The Druïtha are typically pale and rugged in appearance, with scars and tattoos covering their bodies.
The Esterlings: This group of humans are native to the eastern lakelands, riverlands and forests. They are a hardy, strong folk, with mainly bronze and black skin. Most of the males are bald and have large beards, while the females have hair of chestnut or black colours. Culturally, the Esterlings are stubborn and competitive of nature, putting their lives into their trades as blacksmiths, lumberers and farmers. Historically, the Esterlings have manned the economic powerhouse of the empire, the iron sludge forge towns, and are also responsible for some of the largest rebellions throughout history. They have a tense relationship with the elves, and their oral traditions hone their memory for when the elves cross the line next.
Mucklings (Xiongzu, or ôck-li’yoch): The mucklings are a beastfolk native to the Midland Sea. They are short-statured, stocky, frog-like humanoids that dwell on the border between land and water. Due to their ugliness, odd tongue and uncivilised way of life, these are often employed as slaves by the Middlings and lakeland governors. They begin life as tadpoles in the lake and grow throughout a five year period until reaching the humanoid stage, at which point they take on an amphibian lifestyle, hunting on land as well as underwater. Unless enslaves, they typically live in small villages on the lake and river banks and go about their days without much interference. While generally territorial and aggressive, they can rarely compete with the superior weaponry and armour of the imperial army. In the harbour cities, the mucklings often live in terrible slums. Much of their culture has been destroyed in the past centuries, but they have a deep-rooted shamanistic religion that centres around the tribe priest and the cycles of life and death and the tides.
Draconians (Longzu): Found primarily in the south, the diverse draconians make up a small minority in the overall population of the empire. However, due to the proximity of the Tsorodar Empire, draconians are often selected for positions of governorship in the south to keep relations warm, the pool of candidates primarily consisting of Bozak draconians. Draconians enjoy a decent rank among the citizens of the empire, often being employed as soldiers, pit fighters or hunters. As the Gu-Wei empire has no fixed caste system, Da’Covele runaways are sometimes caught on the border. While most of these are sent home to the Tsorodar empire to be executed, a fair number make it past the border unseen to start new lives in the less controlled areas of the empire.
According to the Imperial Doctrine (Year 757)…
A thousand years ago, the Muha emperor’s concubine, Sha-laxas Itha, pregnant with her firstborn son, was sent away, far away, to escape the danger of the rampant hordes of wickedness. Across hills and under branches, her chariot took her, until the horses were coughing blood and running on stumps sanded away by stone and root. So long was the journey, that before their unknown destination was reached, Sha-laxas Itha gave birth, and that which she had born was the son of the dawn and the night, emperor of tide and storm, or tree and beast. When the soldiers who had helped her returned the son to her arms, his very touch sealed shut the wounds he had torn on his way out, and from his first minute, the boy could speak.
So the young emperor spoke: “Bring the chariot to yonder hill; stick so your swords in the grass, o guardsmen, and wait until the sun has set. When dawn again has cast its rays upon this virgin soil of old, the realm my blood shall rule eternal, clearly will be seen.”
The guards obeyed, for none could dispute the miracle before themselves. So they in place of tortured horses shouldered the chariot by its drawbar and shaft, and with the mother and the emperor in the carriage, they brought it to the hill up ahead. At the top, they dug their blades into the soil and went to sleep. That night, they saw visions of a second Muhakim - a greater Muhakim - ruled by imperial blood as divine as had ruled their home for centuries.
When they woke up, at last, their emperor had spoken true - before them laid the rays of heaven, glaring down at the distant plain. There, between the lake and desert, the capital to stand a thousand years would be built.
Written by the predecessor to the current ruling dynasty, the Imperial Doctrine has become a staple of the imperial cult and the heritage of the royal family. However, in spite of its acceptance as historical fact, it overshadows the true founding of the Gu-Wei empire:
The first elves to settle the Xinguo, the empire heartlands between the Midland Sea and the southern deserts, may at some point have had ties to the Muha empire. However, the settlement of the heartlands happened 848 years ago as opposed to a thousand, and was largely limited to a small coalition of elven escapees from the north. Armed and armoured with superior technology, this coalition (known as the Guzu) began conquering and assimilating surrounding elven refugee tribes. Efforts were made early on to establish a centralised government, but due to limited access to food, rampant disease and constant conflict with local human tribes, the Guzu could never keep enough soldiers to maintain larger order. In the end, they were driven from the Xinguo heartlands and forced to trek northwards, where they eventually settled by the Midland Sea. In the year 207 of the second age, the settlement of Shi was founded by the first Guzu emperor, Rizan of the Shi dynasty.
The lakelands suffered few of the same issues as the heartlands, with the foreign tribes being fewer, less aggressive and easier to defend against, and the access to waterways allowing for much greater degree of inwards communication. Rizan was a capable emperor and a dedicated diplomat. He made peace early with the lakefarer tribes and initiated cultural exchange programs to acquire as much knowledge as he could about the land, the lake, the flora and fauna. Through these exchanges, the Guzu learned of the tribes’ foes, allies, disagreements and internal struggles. These slips of the tongue shortly became the graves of a multitude of tribes, as the Guzu pitted them against one another, bribed them, turned on old allies in favour of mightier favorites. The Guzu equipped their closest with bronze tools and weapons and watched them wipe out the smaller rebels who stood against the growing might of the Shi dynasty. By the year 297, the Guzu controlled all of the southern lakebank and a considerable chunk of the heartlands.
With the heartland recaptured and the empire’s strength boosted beyond recognition, Rizan looked away from the forested empire centre for a moment at the distant riverlands to the west. Tales from the human traders told of food in immeasurable abundance, and the last hundred years certainly had tested the larder sizes of the empire. They first moved in with diplomats, trying to learn from the multiple tribes along the great rivers; learn of their motives, their cultures - their enemies. Initial contact was friendly enough - trade agreements were settled and grain, fruit, legumes and vegetables flowed into Shi. However, the trade was lopsided - the royal advisors cautioned that much of the realm’s wealth was being drained in return for much too little crops. At the time, the Guzu had a complex iron industry, using iron sludge from the eastern swamplands. In return for a week’s worth of crops, the river tribes demanded enough iron to amount to two weeks of work. The trade simply wasn’t sustainable.
In 314, Rizan had had enough. The empire was by now in severe debt, and all too dependent on the grain trade, so the emperor rounded up the royal forces and went to war against the river tribes. It would be a conflict which would outlast the emperor himself, for the river tribes were crafty. They knew the wetlands would swallow whatever heavier cavalry the imperial forces employed, and their canoes and rafts much outpaces and outmaneuvered the cumbersome battle fleet of the Shi dynasty. The first few skirmishes brought nothing by losses to the empire: Ships were sunk; warriors, drowned; horses and chariots, forever lost in the swamps. In 361, after 47 years of war, emperor Rizan died of unknown causes. The losses the empire had suffered were immeasurable - some land had been conquered, only to be lost promptly thereafter as the enemy rallied against them. Fortifications built would just sink into the ground and break. Before long, the empire itself fell into turmoil as bordering tribes to the south and east initiated revolts. An opposing political faction arose in court known as the Sons of the Phoenix. They garnered support among the uprising factions as faction members would lead raids against imperial institutions and set free prisoners and slaves. In 366, the Phoenix Rebellion reached Shi and the Shi dynasty capitulated.
The Phoenix Sons’ saying went as such: “Like the bird of flame, our empire shall fall and rise again, more beautiful than ever.” In many ways, that mission succeeded. The first action the new emperor, Laoqun of the Feng dynasty, did was to end the grain trade with the river tribes. While this decision was unpopular at first, the empire’s population had been reduced so immensely that little to no starvation followed. Secondly, the emperor reduced the taxes on iron, salt and fabrics, nearly bankrupting the state a second time in a decade. However, public opinion was high and Laoqun dedicated his rule to building up again the lost trust of the border tribes. The ban on other races than elves at court was lifted, and the royal family was soon counselled by elves, humans and even the occasional muckling. The diversity of the empire prospered as a result, and the proto-tribes of the Middlings and Druïtha could be seen working their crafts in street shops. However, not all bonds would heal so easily, and the river tribes were particularly hateful of the Guzu. Laoqun thus decided to never send elves to negotiate with them, but instead send humans. After all, humans had much more in common with other humans than elves did.
However, the peaceful solution Laoqun had dreamed of did not come to pass. By year 401, the lake tribe coalition that had sworn fealty to the Feng dynasty was at war with the river tribes, and the contract binding the lake tribes to the empire forced the imperial army into the conflict. The royal coffers had barely recovered in the past forty years and Laoqun knew that the empire couldn’t survive another war like the dreaded War of A Man’s Age. The emperor sent out emissaries to all corner of the empire, begging for support. A number honoured their oaths, but the emissaries returned largely empty-handed.
The emperor thus had no choice but to raise the taxes. Initial backlash was merciless, with open rebellion in the eastern regions and the threat of a two-front war on the horizon. However, the Feng dynasty couldn’t afford to break its alliance with the lake people: for one, they kept the coffers full with loyally paid taxes and trade; secondly, they were much too close. In the year 407, as the east drew closer and closer to a loss and the river tribes gave no sign of struggle, the emperor died of a stroke. His successor, Mengshi, unrelated to the emperor by blood and instead chosen on account of his merit, ordered the lake tribes to pull out of the river lands and concentrate fully on containing the eastern rebellions. While initial responses were stubborn and unwilling, the lake tribes eventually left the river lands and sailed east to the Iron Swamps. With the reinforcements in place, the Guzu forces allied with loyal human tribes and the lake peoples turned the tides of war completely, forcing the rebels far away into the eastern forests. The Guzu commanders installed a powerful garrison and made bloody examples of rebel prisoners in the streets and on the borders -- blood eagle torture and flaying were commonly practiced to instill fear in the hearts of the rebels. The Guzu blamed all the horror in the region on the uprisers, and a hatred begun to fester in the people against the opposition. In year 406, enemies of the Feng dynasty were given a bounty of ten bei, enough to feed a family of five for a month. Traitors were rooted out like weeds in the garden, and the witch hunt almost started a second round of turmoil; however, it was much more stable than the region had been before.
With the east under control, Mengshi set his eyes west again. There would be no hope in a frontal assault again. While control of the east provided a much needed source of income for the imperial coffers again, an attack on the river lands would be outright suicidal. So he would wait. The river tribes would never leave their own lands to attack - it was much too easy to defend and nigh impossible to attack from; however, could the emperor give them a reason?
For centuries, he planned and taunted the riverlands, often offering them mockingly beautiful gifts to show how stellar the heartlands had become. By 580, alliances made with the Druïtha and various other human woodland tribes came together to conquer the heartlands in the name of the Feng dynasty, so silk flowed through Shi like water through the riverlands. Emissaries were constantly sent back without their heads, hands, legs or noses, but Mengshi pressed on. Surely enough, by the year 600, various factions in the riverlands begun viewing the empire through different lenses. Trade opened up again, but the emperor’s men were certain to keep the prices under their control. The empire prospered, and slowly, slowly, the imperial traders were feeding the river tribes misinformation, lies and deceit about their allies, turning the tribes against one another. In 611, the chief of the Jianger-Kaan, one of the smaller river tribes, came to the royal court for an audience. They spoke of oppression and betrayal from the Ungur-zun, lords of the headwaters, and wanted their vengeance. If the empire offered their aid, the Jianger-Kaan would smuggle a force across Laojiang, the widest river and the biggest thorn in the side of any attack plan to seize the wetlands. While the imperial warfleet was well known and hated among the river tribes, none would suspect the small galleys of Jianger-Kaan.
This was the opportunity the emperor had waited for. Immediately, he agreed to send over ten thousand troops to lay siege to the Ungur-zun capital of Dosr-ung. The assault happened later that year; the river clans had not a minute to react. The transport across the Laojiang had been swift and efficient, and the soldiers had hidden in the dense woods until the time came to strike. When the war horns sounded, an unprepared city faced ten thousand armoured elves and men. Dosr-ung fell within hours.
With the greatest and most powerful river tribe under imperial control, more and more rose up against their oppressive masters in hopes that they would gain imperial favour. By 613, the riverlands, the bane of emperor Rizan and the Shi dynasty, and a five century old thorn in the side of the Guzu elves, were finally under the control of the Feng dynasty.
A hundred years of prosperity followed: Riverland grain flowed into the capital of Shi and the population grew with unprecedented speed. In fact, population growth was so rapid that the nobles at court began to fear that the empire had become dependent on the western riverlands - too dependent. Various factions rose up at court, all of which came up with their own solutions to the problem. Emperor Mengshi, while popular among the people (or, well, those that knew of him), had grown quite unpopular in court of late, primarily among the elven cliques. The ones united Sons of the Phoenix had split into a multitude of subfactions, which added deeper complexity to the already diverse court. In 715, a grave plague broke out in Shi that spread out across the land, bringing with it an unfathomable death toll. Emperor Mengshi took ill and died within weeks of the outbreak, and in his place rose a faction of the Muha Brotherhood, a faction believing in the supremacy of elvenkind. They quickly surrounded themselves with guards and walls of words, arresting anyone who spoke up against their segregating ways. Other races were banned from court, causing great turmoil in the many factions of the empire. The plague that had ravaged the realm was blamed on the mucklings’ unclean way of life, and a great culling followed, effectively ending muckling society as it had existed for millennia.
In 737, the Druïtha of the Heartlands burst into an outrage as imperial forces sent lumberers to turn Düatha-de-Eamhair, the main grove of the northern circle, into farmland. The outrage was met with violence, which spurred a great rebellion which would come to be known as the Ashen War. Druïtha humans were vicious in their attacks and knew their wooden terrian better than the imperial armies of Guzu elves, Jianger-Kaan sailors and various other human tribes. As brave as the woodland tribes were, however, they could not withstand the fire arrows and pitch-rolled boulders of the imperial forces. The entire grove was reduced to ashes, and the Druïtha subdued through force. By 755, the Muha Brotherhood cast aside the name of the Feng dynasty and instead named their own emperor, Guxiong of the Ge dynasty.
Guxiong began his work immediately, ordering every writer and historian in the capital to draft a census of lineages in the court, and to begin work on what he and the Muha Brotherhood called the Imperial Doctrine. For too long had the Guzu mingled with lesser races on the quest for greatness - it had soiled their sacred heritage and impeded their mission to lay all the world beneath a new Muha empire. As such, the Muha Brotherhood and the emperor’s men wrote volumes upon volumes of history tracing Guxiong’s bloodline back to the last emperor of Muha, and his favorite concubine, Sha-laxas Itha. The court enforced this new doctrine that spoke of a sacred magical heritage from a thousand years past, and a bright future that would, like the phoenix, rise again out of the ashes even stronger than before.
A complete overhaul of the state was also in order: For nearly five hundred years, the state had been primarily built around the capital of Shi, with few to no actual elven settlements beyond. Lesser races had not actually been governed; they had gone about their own ways, occasionally paid taxes and then taken up arms upon the emperor’s command. In terms of control, the previous emperor could point to but a few lose lines on a map and vaguely declare that those were the empire’s borders. However, everyone at court knew that over half the peasants, woodlanders, lakefarers and other tribes they governed only knew of the empire as two to three armoured guards that occasionally stopped by their village demanding grain.
Guxiong and his clique agreed - this would not do.
It began in 758 with the installment of a new rank - governor. The country was divided into sixteen provinces, each to be governed by an elven governor sent from the capital. The governor would enforce imperial law and doctrines on the citizens of the empire, and see to it that not only taxes were paid, but that the citizens also paid an imperial tithe directly to the imperial family. To avoid separatism, each province was also monitored by an envoy of the emperor, and the traditionally tumultuous east was divided into a multitude of provinces to avoid any one province seizing power in the area.
By 760, however, it became abundantly clear quite quickly that the peoples of the empire had quite the opposite opinion on how the country should be run. In the newly dubbed provinces of Duyin (Druïthim) and Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama), the imperial doctrine of an emperor of divine origins strictly counterspoke the Druïtha belief that no living being could ever descend from divinity, and that the only contact the living could establish with the gods was one through harmony and unity with nature. Furthermore, the local governors agreed that the main commodity of value in the province was silk, and it was declared that the local tithes should be paid in silk. However, the harvesting and processing of silk was a sacred ritual to the Druïtha, and to hurry it along in any way was considered wanton blasphemy. Any effort to increase production in time for tithe season was thus met with hostilities and at times open conflict.
The provinces of Guokoubei (Northern Riverlands), Guokounan (Southern Riverlands) and Jiangdi (Jianger) faired little better. The local festivals around sowing season and harvesting season were banned on account of overlapping with the emperor’s birthday and the Month of Ancestors. Immediately, this sparked rampant riots throughout all three provinces. Food exports to the Heartlands were stopped nigh overnight, and chaos erupted soon after in the central regions. In the east, too, tensions grew high as the oral traditions passed down for generations were suppressed in favour of the imperial cult. Even the far south, which had been a largely stable part of the country for centuries, experienced riots as Draconians grew unimpressed by the weak-bodied leadership of puny elves.
As quickly as they could, the governors sent messages to the emperor, urging him to roll back the tithe reforms and the emphasis on the imperial doctrine, but the emperor would not answer them back. No, for as riots ravaged the countryside and the capital grew famished, the emperor and his closest delved into the deepest dungeons of the imperial palace, where they began to call for angels, demons - anything that could save them in their peril. Meanwhile, one of the governors, Yandi of Sunguo (Sunnaland), united the other governors of the east in a rebellion against the Ge dynasty. Yandi had grown sympathetic to the Esterlings’ cause, seeing the tyranny in suppressing centuries of culture all to legitimise a despotic rule. The rebel armies met little resistance on the way, indifferent governors and supportive soldiers allowing them safe passage. They entered the royal palace to see that the emperor and his who clique had committed ritualistic suicide in a vain effort to summon some form of dark magic. Whether they had succeeded is unknown, but what was certain was that a new leader was needed. Yandi took it upon himself to see the systems of his predecessor undone, and was in 763 crowned emperor Yandi of the Wu dynasty.
During his reign, Yandi removed the restrictions on who could serve as governor, but he did not quite open up the court. During his initial days as ruler, he uncovered a dozen unfinished or prototype plans for possible reforms, many of which he confessed were quite revolutionary. Among other things was a population census, far from completed but vaguely drafted. It categorised the many citizens of the empire into actual groups for the first time: There were two kinds of elf, likely to legitimise the number of elves he threw out of the city for disagreeing with the imperial doctrine; the humans were united into one group, perhaps a reason behind their recent rebellion; the mucklings, who had been reduced to meagre vermin stalking the streets of Shi and the banks of the Midland Sea, were included for some reason; and the Draconians of the south. It was a rough draft, but a draft nonetheless.
Further digging into the many proposals made Yandi ponder if the previous emperor truly had been so mad and despotic as he had thought: Many of these reforms would effectivise the state considerably, including a standardised system of writing, a standing army, quarterly taxation instead of monthly… The list went on. Yandi would keep some and scrap some.
By 783, the majority of governors were from the actual province they governed, which solved a number of issues. Yandi declared that the imperial doctrine should no longer be enforced, but instead taught as imperial history to those seeking to enter a position at court. Local customs were legalised once more, and the tumult slowly begun to die down again. Governor power was restricted further, and beyond taxation and military drafts, the central government remained largely invisible to the majority imperial citizens. Anyone seeking a position in government had to learn the standardised script known as guwen; traders and trading guilds who operated with written accounts also had to learn to be allowed into imperial ports. The Greater Shi area developed a local dialect which became the official tongue of the empire, known as guanyan. Finally, the bei was introduced as the standard currency for all to use, phasing out among other things the barter economy of the Druïtha. Standard weights and measurements were also enforced, based on the Middling units used in trade.
A century passed under Yandi’s rule and reforms were passed slowly and allowed the populace time to adjust. Yandi’s royal court had come to be known as the Huangzu, just as Guxiong and his clique had wanted. These elves were of Yandi’s own blood and served in the highest seats of government. The emperor made certain to maintain good relations with them all at all times, and was thorough when it came to emphasising that he was descended from Muha, and that he himself had been chosen to rule out of all of his family by angelic mandate. This idea of the angelic mandate was spread throughout the empire and adapted for local cultures. All would know that to unseat the emperor was to go against the will of the angels and gods. The tax system had filled the state coffers with metal, food and fabrics, all of which were spent on great structures to honour the greatness of the Wu dynasty. Shi was no longer alone in being the only great city in the empire. Other centres of industry, trade and growth popped up around the realm: Jiangla and Jianger in the riverlands, with populations numbering almost a million each; Amarra, jewel of the east, an industrial port city with nearly seven hundred thousand diligent workers keeping the iron forges flaring day and night; Norrabi in the Sunnaland province, uniting the fabrics of the Druïtha groves and jewels and minerals of the southern deserts with the markets of the north. The country was blooming; the phoenix had risen again from the ashes.
At the mark of the 900th year of the 2nd Age, emperor Yandi declared to all that the empire of the Guzu elves, which for so long had existed without a truly defined name beyond the Guzu or whatever name of the dynasty in power had chosen, were to be given a true name. He took the first character of the Guzu name, 古, meaning ancient, and claimed the only character he deemed worthy to describe the empire: 威, wei, the guwen character for might. In guanyan, thusly, the empire was named Gu-Wei, ‘ancient might’.
It would be wrong to classify the Gu-Wei empire’s culture as a singular thing. With the multitude of ethnic groups and cultural criss-crossing between the various races, Gu-Wei is host to a plethora of different customs, ranging from clothing to festivities to languages. Here are some examples:
To a high degree, the whole empire follows a loose set of laws laid out by various emperors since the dawn of the empire. These include the usual passages, such as prohibiting murder, stealing, adultery and various other malicious practices. However, while a standardised system of law has been in the works over the past two centuries, the Elves of Shi cannot seem to rid their realm completely of a number of older laws that stick to their subjects like marrow in the bones.
Riverland Law: The Blood Debt
A remarkable trait among the riverlanders is their blood debt law, which states that any murder entitles the family of the deceased to a life from the killer’s family. This debt can be paid either through servitude, death or property. Due to the severity of the two first options, most choose to pay the family of the deceased the amount equal to the life of their dead relative. These prices are standardised, with the death of an adult male costing a thousand bei; an adult woman, two thousand bei; a child under the age of fifteen summers, five hundred bei; an elder above the age of forty summers regardless of gender, a thousand bei. Occassionally, however, some will choose the path of servitude. In the event that this happens, the killer or someone from the killer’s family is chained to the deceased’s family until death, regardless of whether the family believes the debt has been paid. The family chooses how they wish to treat the servant, and the servant has no right to argue against unfair treatment. Most servants die shortly after enslavement due to overworking.
Druïtha Law: The Sacred Groves
The sacred groves are defined as any forested area that the druids have declared carries seeds of the gods. These groves are respected and cared for like children, for they are the only worldly connections to the gods, without which the world would be doomed. Therefore, harming the groves in anyway is punishable by death. Harming can be as little as peeling bark off of the trees.
Druïtha Law: The Law of Nature’s Speed
Nature takes its time with everything - nothing is ever hastened along, or so the Druïtha say. Unlike their Esterling neighbours to the northeast, the Druïtha shun all manner of mass production or unsustainable resource extraction. Therefore, any effort to ‘hurry nature along’ (that being increasing production at the cost of nature, for example filling the forest with silk worms which then eat all the leaves and shrubberies around), is prohibited and punishable by death.
Esterling Law: Right to Duel
Few qualities are more important to an Esterling than pride - the very act of losing face or causing someone to lose face can ruin a person’s whole career - whole life, even. Thus, whenever an Esterling is insulted gravely, they can invoke the right to duel, at which point the insulter and insultee will both draw swords and fight until one of them falls. This right is culturally accepted and the winner is not charged with murder afterwards regardless of the imperial laws prohibiting such.
Middling Law: Embargo-Free
The Middlings believe in great profits, and centuries of knowing the markets and trade have led them to choose any port whenever, regardless of whether its friendly or mean. Due to their importance to the imperial coffers, the Middlings are effectively allowed to smuggle and trade with the enemy as much as they want, provided they can show the port authorities adequate documents.
Crafting carries many meanings throughout the empire: In the east, crafting refers to the way of life for the citizens of the forge-cities, fashioning rusty sludge into iron tools and weapons; to the Druïtha, craftsmanship is turning silk into fabric and wood into totems and idols; the Jianger-Kaan see craftsmanship in culinary art, spending hours and even days perfecting recipes; the Draconians see craftsmanship in jewelry and even martial arts; the mucklings practice shell art and stone carving to shape idols of worship in their villages and slums. The Elves, both Huangzu and Puzu, practice goldsmithing and jewelcrafting using the resources imported from the south, and the Middlings build great ships for both the trade fleet and warfleet of the empire. Additionally, the Guzu elves of old passed down schematics and trade secrets in medicine, papercraft and construction, which especially the Puzu Elves make good use of in expansion of Gu-Wei culture throughout the realm.
Clothing varies a great deal throughout the empire, with each ethnic group differing slightly depending on local customs and climate. Largely, however, the availability of silk and flax fabrics and the overall warmth of the southern temperate areas, the majority of the populace wears light clothing in the form of tunics, robes and baggy pants.
The Huangzu commonly dress in fine silks with bejeweled embroideries, using materials from all across the realm. The daily clothing follows a strict gender-based code, where males wear black or white robes and females wear red, blue or green. What colour one wears is decided by one’s station and relationship with the emperor. The emperor himself wears only yellow to signify their station. Other colours denote: Male: What the male fashion shares in common is an emphasis on one or two colours for the whole attire: Black with gold, white with blue.
Black: Father/uncle/older brother to the emperor. Has limited power at court, but husbands will make decisions in the emperor’s place if the emperor for some reason is unavailable. Those dressed in black function as advisors to the emperor. As they are figures of importance for the emperor’s growth, the emperor repays them with respect and wealth.
White: Cousins, nephews, sons, young brother: Those that wear white have no power initially unless granted a position, typically in the military or in provincial governance. The white robes are typically referred to as ‘scholardress’ as the emperor’s cousins, nephews, sons and younger brothers are forced to undergo an intense education so they one day can serve their leader as able officers or statesmen.
Female: As opposed to male clothing, female dresses often have multiple different colours and embroideries to complement and contrast the base tint. Furthermore, they often wear short jackets of contrasting colours.
Blue: Emperor’s mother/aunt/older sister: Serves in advisory positions as well as caretakers of the emperor. They oversee management of the royal estates such as the summer and winter palaces, and the central palace grounds in Shi. The blue-clothed are nonetheless very well respected, and traditions dictate that the emperor must see to it that these individuals are married to good men and given wealthy homes.
Red: Cousines, nieces, daughters and younger sisters of the emperor: Much like their male counterparts, this group is put in education to serve the emperor. However, due to the tight familial bonds among the Huangzu, most of the red-clothed are sent into domestic education to serve as the emperor’s future concubines or wives to the emperor’s sons and brothers.
Green: The emperor’s wife and concubines: Compared to the other groups, these enjoy quite a bit of freedom, being closest to the emperor and the bearer of his children (provided they live to not see their father overthrown).
Military Fashion: Another trait common among the males of Huangzu is ceremonial armour in official ceremonies. This armour is heavy and cumbersome, but incredibly beautiful and a strong sign of wealth and might. Due to its expense, however, it’s typically only worn by those closest to the emperor.
Puzu Elves typically hold lower positions in government or at court at the most, and the majority are either peasants, artisans or scholars. Their clothing is not colour-coded as strictly as that of Huangzu, but heavy influences from the central court create certain norms for what to wear. Among the gentry, for example, one is expected to at least own one attire in the style of Huangzu silk for ceremonial and official occasions. Here, the men are expected to wear black or white, and the women red or blue, though the colours are not tied to particular positions. However, outside of Greater Shi and deeper into the Heartlands, the gender divide on colours is less rigid, meaning Puzu governors outside of Greater Shi often wear red robes and consider it a proud cultural trait.
Those who are of lesser means and birth usually wear linen or leather, depending on what’s available. The heat can get intense in the summer, especially further into the Heartlands or in the south in Druïthim. Those who are well off among the peasantry try their best to appear like Huangzu by wearing linen robes fashioned from flax. The richest estate farmers hire master spinners to fashion them such clothing, and some attires are nearly indistinguishable at a glance.
Druïtha live in moist, hot, dense forests, and many go out into the open barely clothed save loincloths to cover the bare necessities. What is typical is that much of what they wear is made from that most comfortable of fabrics, silk. It was said back when the Guzu first made contact with the Druïtha that even their beggars gather the food they earn in sacks of woven silk. The material is in such overflow that its only true value to the Druïtha is religious. Dyeing clothes is a newer concept, however, introduced by the Guzu; it has only been roughly two centuries since the Druïtha began dyeing the clothes they wear. As opposed to the other ethnicities of the empire, the Druïtha are openly against the fashion of the capital, and the governors of Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama often suffer hard glares when official ceremonies force them to don Huangzu clothing.
Esterlings are a simple folk that wear what best complements their work, be it light clothing with thick gloves and boots in the forge-cities, leather and thick cloaks to ward off the autumn and winter elements in the fields, bare-torsoed in the baking sun. The common materials found in Esterling clothing are linen and leather; the richer gentry and nobles will occasionally wear Huangzu silk during official visits or when making visits.
Middlings dress in what they sell, most often, so many of the merchants dress themselves in silk and linen fabrics, often in the form of turbans and robes. The Midland Sea is known to occasionally be quite windy, so baggy, insulating clothing solves both issues of hot and cold. Landbound merchants, especially the rich, gladly dress themselves like Huangzu and Puzu nobility, as to appear even richer.
The Jianger-Kaan typically only wear clothing to protect from the elements, such as the powerful summer sun or the torrential winter rains. Clothing is typically restricted to loincloths in the Southern Riverlands, tunic and skirts growing in popularity to both the north and south. The richest wear leather fashioned from the skin of water buffalo or Huangzu silks, depending on their station. Due to slight distrust of the Elves, however, the majority of riverfolk still carry resentment towards Guzu culture. They also often wear large, shield-like, circular straw hats when working.
The Muckling clothing is often simple, limited to loincloths and vests. Depending on whether they live in villages or slums, their clothing may vary from primal, but whole, to poor and ragged. The mucklings use leather to make armour, though centuries of repression and cultural loss has left much of their more complex culture in ruins.
Gender: Gender differences is viewed differently throughout the empire, but the imperial doctrine is quite specific about the role of women in government - that being that it is nonexistent. According to the imperial doctrine, women serve as masters of the home, not what’s beyond it. Among the Huangzu, this means that women possess quite a lot of authority within the imperial palaces, but are functionally powerless outside of them. Women cannot hold positions of governance or military posts, either. Among the Puzu, the laws stay much the same: Women are largely restricted to the home while men decide matters relating to what’s outside of it. The same culture applies to much of the Jianger-Kaan and the rest of the riverfolk, which coincides neatly with imperial doctrine. In Esterling and Druïtha territory, however, women have traditionally taken a much greater role outside of the home: Forge-cities are manned just as much by women and men, and Druïthan men are forbidden from serving in the military, as they instead must follow the path of druidism. These cultural rifts have caused numerous disputes throughout history, and the Druïtha still do not offer soldiers to the imperial army on account of the male requirement. Hierarchy: Social mobility isn’t impossible in the empire, but it’s strictly controlled. The Huangzu make all imperial decisions, and all the realm’s subjects must (ideally) accept them without question; however, the various governors around the realm and their advisors make more specialised decisions on the local scale. Furthermore, a small minority of advisors at court comprised on non-Huangzu officials may potentially have a small sway in national decisions, but these are few and reliant on connections to spread their influence. Outside of the royal sphere, however, potentially anyone can rise to become a lesser official or even provincial governor. All they require are is an education at the Imperial Academy in Shi and a mentor who will speak for them during elections. This right is universal for elves, humans and draconians. Mucklings are not allowed to apply to the Imperial Academy. Any decision made at the provincial level is absolute and will be enforced through law. For this reason, locals are often encouraged to participate in local politics through dialogue with the provincial government to achieve the most harmonious agreements. In terms of racial hierarchy, the elves regardless of type are above humans, and enjoy certain handicaps in court of law, such as shorter and milder sentences compared to their shorter-lived counterparts. Draconians and humans have equal standing in society, though kobolds that sneak across Gu-Wei borders are treated as lesser and often shunned. Mucklings are at the bottom.
As mentioned, the written word, guwen, is standardised across the whole realm as the only written language accepted in transactions, official and unofficial documents and literature. It’s a logographic script supposedly derived from ancient Muha magical glyphs. It is incredibly difficult to learn and requires a great deal of financial and time investments, which is one of the reasons literacy rates are borderline nonexistent outside of the higher gentry and nobility. However, guwen has been a boon for Esterlings, Middlings and Jianger-Kaan alike, as these civilisations never possessed a written language, or used one that was underdeveloped and insufficient. The Druïtha unofficially use a runic, syllabic script that is officially banned, but secretly allowed for religious reasons. As for spoken languages, the Gu-Wei empire is incredibly diverse in the centre and much more unified in the riverlands. Water unites, so the Jianger-Kaan dialect of xiyu (western talk, or riverfolk speak) is not so different from the Ungur-zun all the way up to the northern border. In the east, the situation is similar: Rivers and the Midland Sea have united most of the east and Midland around very similar tongues, exceptions being the borders between Origo and Ithram, where dense forests and scattered populations have led to the development of some strange languages that are largely unintelligible to the rest of the Esterlings. The southeastern Heartlands and Druïthim, however, have some tongue that even after 500 years of cultural exchange remain largely uninfluenced or unchanged from the isolated languages native to the Druïtha woods. The Druïtha speak in total eight different languages with a much greater number of dialects. The languages spoken in the Dûna-de-Hama province, specifically in the provincial capital Hi-Dûna, have been heavily influenced by Esterspeak due to trade, with the Hi-Dûna dialect even having been changed slightly at a syntactic level. The language spoken in Shi, specifically the one used by the Huangzu and the Puzu, is known as guanyan. This is an old Elven-derived language with tones and limited consonants. To know it fluently is a requirement to graduate from the Imperial Academy in Shi, and is used in all political processes. Among traders it also functions as a lingua franca within the empire. The Muckling tongue commands a wholly different repertoire of sounds than what elven or human mouths can properly replicate. Several words incorporate croaks of different tones and intensity, sounds which are completely necessary to properly convey meaning. Differences between stressed and unstressed croaks may mean the difference between warning someone that the village is in danger and calling one’s conversation partner fat. The grammar lacks tense, instead conveying meaning by laying down a context then explaining one’s point; for example, in order to tell someone else that something else happened yesterday, a muckling would say “yesterday, something happens”. Furthermore, while it’s been severely marginalised over the course of the centuries, there is a higher form of Muckling speech known in history scrolls as croaksong or rrurrt-yk-xechen. Once, this was a special dialect of mucklingspeak with its own grammar and diction, entirely dedicated to oral poetry, song and religious practices. Long strings of various croaks and ribbits would weave together into religious choral music that went on long into the night. These days, only a number of ageing tribe shamans are familiar with the tongue; in town slums, the tongue has been lost for ages.
To the Elves, there are three great celebrations throughout the year: Day of the Dawn, the Emperor’s Birthday and the Literature Festival.
Month of the Ancestors: This is a month-long event during which both Huangzu and Puzu elves mourn those that have passed and pray for advice and blessings for the coming year. During the start of the month, graves are sweeped and washed, and children are expected to make offerings of a tenth of what they earn or reap during that month to their parents. As the month nears its end, great festivals are thrown to praise the festivals and bring great fortune in the coming year. There are musical performances, theatre telling stories of the past, dance numbers and, of course, feasts in abundance. Falls on the first month of every year.
The Emperor’s Birthday: Celebrating this day goes back all the way to the first emperor Rizan, whose birthday was on the seventh day of the tenth moon. The manner of celebration has stayed largely constant, with great markets and games in Shi. Nowadays, great gladiatorial tournaments are arranged in a specialised arena called the Phoenix Nest. While this fighting pit is open all year round, it’s especially active on this day. Emperor Yandi’s birthday is the ninth day of the third month.
The Literature Festival: Largely a local festival in Shi, the Literature Festival is in truth a different name for the Imperial Academy graduation ceremony. The academy grounds is first filled with stalls manned by the soon-to-be graduates presenting their final works of prose or poetry. Then at midday, the top ten students will present summaries of their works for all to hear. Finally, the academy principal announces that the students are worthy graduates and then open markets in the streets selling food and commodities for the families to gift their newly graduated son.
Jianger-Kaan festivities mainly relate to the sowing season and the harvesting season, which due to the riverlands’ fertility happen twice per year. After the emperor allowed for the Month of Ancestors to be celebrated simultaneously with other festivals, the riverfolk have also taken up this custom.
The Sowing Festival: Falls on the second month and the eighth month. A village wide celebration during which the many families come together to preserve what they have left in the form of wine, beer, preserves or other dishes. Animals are also typically slaughtered for this festival both to let the farmers eat themselves fat and strong, and to smoke and dry the meat for the long wait until the harvest.
The Harvest Festival: Falls on the sixth month and the twelfth month. The whole village comes together to reap the fruits of their labour and enjoy it in the form of great feasts of noodles, steamed and baked goods and various stews and soups.
Middlings and Esterlings share common celebrations. Additionally, they both celebrate Month of the Ancestors.
The Harvest Festival (East): Quite similar to the harvest festival of the riverlands, except that the Esterlings don’t celebrate with a village-wide meal; the streets are rampant with drinking and song, but the dinner is eaten at home with one’s family. Falls on the seventh month.
Nongri (‘Boorsdag’ or ‘Farmer’s Day’): Every last day of the week, all workers are exempt from work. While this usually isn’t treated as a celebration, it has its groundings in history where it stands as a stab back at the governor for imposing too much power over the artisans of the forge-cities.
The Druïtha are the only ethnic group to not celebrate any Guzu holidays, keeping mostly to themselves with ancient religious celebrations venerating nature and its processes.
Pilgrimage of the Groves: Occurs every year during the fifth to eighth months. Young Druïtha who are to be druids or witches go on a pilgrimage from grove to grove to ask the nature spirits’ blessings. During this time, the areas around the groves are host to markets, religious gatherings, theatre and music.
The Mulberry Festival: This festival falls on the ninth month, right after the pilgrimage. This is the collective spinning and weaving of all the silk collected throughout the year from the mulberry moths. The fabrics are later stored and portioned out for the various tax quarters. The festival it especially a time for druid and witch apprentices to show that they have mastered the art of weaving, and weaving competitions are hosted with huge crowds.
The Reforestation: Falls on the third month. Here the druids and witches gather those willing and go to plant trees in place of dead ones or recently chopped ones. This event often causes heated disputes with the Puzu elf peasants of the southern Heartlands who deforest their lands to make more farmland, only to find that Druïtha come back on their land to plant new ones the following year.
Draconian… Mucklings have lost much of their culture over the past 900 years. What remains is but a shadow of the complex lifestyle they ones lead. However, through all the hardships and toils they’ve had to endure and still endure, there is one festival their masters cannot erase:
Tadpoling: During the sixth month, when the tadpoles hatch, the mucklings throw great feasts where they eat hearty meals and throw the leftovers into the river or lake. Their tadpoles eat the leftovers and grow fat and healthy. What remains of the religious element that once played a huge role is now the local shaman wishing for emancipation and a new home for the mucklings.
Entertainment at court is largely limited to games, performances and competitions within the royal family, like archery competitions, riding tournaments, chariot races and many more. The exceptions to this are the Phoenix Nest and the Dayantai Opera Hall: The Phoenix Nest: Located in Shi, it is an enormous rectangular arena within the courtyard of what was once a massive military complex. There are weekly spars and gladiatorial fights both with and without weapons, and every month there is a huge chariot race, which is considered the height of entertainment among the nobles. There are even provincial teams, and the competitive spirit gets fierce when rival teams race.
Dayantai Opera Hall: A massive theatre and musical complex under the open sky, where theatre troupés and bands come every months to play for the audience of the capital. All players must pass tests set by a board of judges to perform, but those that do have the opportunity to play before the imperial family. The best among them may be lucky enough to be hired as royal performers, work for which the pay is great and fame, greater. Around the realm, entertainment comes in a multitude of forms: Middlings will occasionally travel around the riverlands with circus troupés onboard; Esterling oral tradition comes with a career, where storytellers have high social status as both entertainers and teachers; Druïtha relax with music, dancing and games; Jianger-Kaan and other riverfolk over drink and party to entertain themselves; mucklings will have swimming and fishing competitions. Furthermore, music is very important in the Gu-Wei empire, being appreciated by every culture that inhabits it. Typical instruments played include flutes and drums, but the Guzu have introduced various others such as the guqin and guzheng, two types of harps; the erhu, which is a two-stringed instrument; gongs and han drums, and more. Song written in any of the languages within the realm may find themselves to be quite popular with even the royal family if allowed to spread. Thanks to opportunities like those at the Dayantai Opera Hall, music can potentially let beggars become nobility.
While the different kinds of cuisine vary quite a lot throughout the land, all the ethnic groups of the empire focus their diets around large amounts of carbohydrates. Western Cuisine (Jianger-Kaan and Western Heartlands): Rice is a staple food of the west, being almost single-handedly responsible for the enormous and steady population growth. The riverfolk see rice as the basis for all other meals, and a typical day starts with a large bowl of rice, often served fried in egg with corn, peas and scallions. The wealthy may also eat steamed wheat buns stuffed with soy sauce fried meats. The most important meal to the riverfolk, however, is lunch at midday. Due to the hot and moist climate, working the fields at this time of day becomes nigh self-torment. Therefore, people instead flock to the cooler inns and taverns for bowls of beef noodle soup, grilled and seasoned river fish or soy-fried eggplant on rice, eaten with a side of water buffalo milk and pineapple or coconut cakes. If there is room for more, the riverlanders usually eat rice until they’re full. For supper, the riverfolk either eat at home or with their neighbours in the village centres. The typical dishes served are based on what the families grow in their fields: eggplant, cabbage, carrots, turnips, scallions, bok choy, soybeans, spinach and more, often seasoned with peppers of varying spiciness. These vegetables are commonly served with broiled or grilled fish. Jianger-Kaan cooking typically uses soybean oil or buffalo tallow to cook their food in large woks. This meal is the primary source of fiber for most riverlanders, where darker greens provide a nutrient-rich and filling alternative to denser grains. All of this is typically served with rice and, if the families can afford it or own water buffaloes or ducks or chickens, steak and eggs. Other important parts of the riverfolk diet include fruits like watermelon, oranges, lychee and goji berries. Due to Elven influence, tea has also become a staple of the diet and is frequently drunk for supper or between meals. The access to soybeans has also lead to the Jianger-Kaan becoming adept tofu-makers, and the local mapo-tofu is known throughout the whole country. Eastern Cuisine (Esterling, Middling and Northern Druïtha): Where rice is the staple of the west, wheat and millet form the basis of all food in the east. Furthermore, they incorporate to a much greater extent various meats and fats to support their hardworking lifestyle, chief among which is pork. Morning routines are similar to those in the west - breakfast consists of pork chops with sides of bread and millet gruel, typically eaten at home. The first vegetables of the day are consumed around lunch, where the workhouses and taverns near workplaces (or the housewife if one is a farmer) typically serve salted pork, fried fish, pork buns or fresh bread with sides of carrots, boiled bok choy, fermented beans or sautéed spinach. Middlings typically switch the salted pork for even more fish, like lake catfish, carp, minnow or other species. Especially the Druïtha, but also Esterlings and Middlings, supplement lunch with various fruits like oranges, peaches and lychee, and roasted cashew nuts. These are typically also snacks throughout the day. Supper is, like breakfast (and possibly lunch), enjoyed at home in the form of salted pork, fried pig’s fat or bacon, supplemented with either bread, wheat noodles or rice from the west. Occasionally, if the family has access to soybeans, tofu will also be made and served in exciting sauces. Northern Cuisine(Huangzu and Puzu): Elven food differs from the rest of the regional specialities in that it has a heavy reliance on various spices and flavourings to achieve greatness. Without the added complexity of spices, Guzu cuisine is largely restricted to rice, meats and vegetables; however, Guzu are expertly familiar with the local spices growing in their area, and make full use of them. These spices are cinnamon, star anise, cloves, fennel seeds and numbing pepper, and together they lift all elven dishes to a much higher culinary level than their peers, save perhaps for the Jianger-Kaan. The Puzu fishermen also produce fish sauce from the lakefish, which provide a much needed umami boost to otherwise uninteresting meats. While the Huangzu and Puzu are radically different in terms of social standing, their diets haven’t diverged too much during their 100-200 years of separation, the larger differences being mainly due to differences in wealth. A day typically starts with a piece of fried fish, a bowl of rice and a bowl of hot soup or light porridge, like millet gruel. The nobility will usually have long, drawn-out breakfasts with tea instead of soup or porridge, which they’ll drink for nearly two hours every day. Puzu farmers may downplay the fish in favour of more carbohydrates in the form of more rice, corn or Esterling bread. Lunch to the Puzu is similar to the riverfolk’s - around midday, most Puzu Elves will head to the nearest tavern or inn (or foodstall, if they work in a city) to have grilled duck, chili-cooked fish, soy-braised beef and more, served with cold noodles in a vinegary soup and bok choy woked in oil. The Huangzu have a similar diet, but the quality is substantially improved upon, and the food is often served with wine brewed from rice, wheat or fruit and supplemented with cakes and sweets. Seeing as they never leave the palace complexes, they never get to experience the outside foodstalls of Shi’s streets. Supper is eaten at home, typically consisting of spicy fish, beef or pork served with a side of rice and chopped lotus cores, if they can afford it. If not, the lotus cores are swapped for bok choy or spinach. After supper, even Puzu elves enjoy a long break with hot tea and, if they can afford it, sweets in the form of pineapple cakes or biscuits. Huangzu will typically towards the end of the day bring out heavier wines if the occasion calls for it (if it doesn’t, some will make an occasion), brewed in great clay pits for a whole year. The product is known as baijiu. Southern Cuisine (Druïtha and Draconian): The Druïtha kitchens are perhaps the dullest, seen from the perspective of the rest of the country. Many Druïtha eat their food raw and unprocessed, and small groups hold on to ancient traditions that forbid them from eating anything they haven’t caught themselves, which makes their eating patterns erratic. The majority, however, have taken to northern cultural influence and cook their food in manners resembling the Guzu and Esterling cuisines. For breakfast, Druïtha typically eat fruit and nuts to start the day. If they have access to it, they may also eat dried meats or drink millet gruel. However, the distance between towns is long in Druïthim and Dûna-de-Hama, so inter-village trade is typically erratic and unpredictable. Lunch provides the Druïtha with one of their main protein sources: fried silkworms. Typically served in a bowl by themselves or on rice if available, these provide a much needed protein boost in an otherwise wanting diet. Many choose to drink this with coconut water or a local drink known as éonimhir, which is milk mixed with animal blood, commonly boar or cow, if available. Supper consists of additional fats in the form of nuts and sugars from fruits, nowadays typically fried and tossed with soy sauce, rice and bits of bird or rabbit meat.
Draconians, on the other hand, are carnivores, and eat meat imported from neighbouring provinces or whatever they can catch in the lands bordering the desert.
Education for everyone is among the chief accomplishments of Emperor Yandi. After the Imperial Academy was founded in 759 by Emperor Guxiong as a way of educating Guzu elves to become proper bureaucrats, the only applicants to be accepted were Huangzu. In 768, five years after Emperor Guxiong had been overthrown by Yandi of the Wu dynasty, the Emperor decreed that Puzu and even human nobility would also be allowed to attend, provided they could pay for their own tuition. By 770, all restrictions on race and class were removed and whomsoever had the means could send their sons to attend the academy (women are not allowed to attend still). Students who are enrolled begin their studies at eight years old. There they are given a bed in a twelve-man dormitory, which they will sleep in for the next ten years of their education. Classes begin at dawn and finish at sundown, after which the student will be given assignments, usually in the form of essays, poetry, painting, speechcraft or reading and reciting. In a seven day week, students are given one day off, which better be spent studying if they want to pass the year.
Syllabus:
Year 1-4: The student is taught to read and write guwen. By year two, they are expected to be able to read and write commentaries showing understanding of old poems and essays; by year three, articles and philosophical documents. Guanyan is the oral language used in teaching and the students no longer have dedicated classes to oral guanyan after year three; by that time, they are expected to know it fluently. At the end of year four, each student is given an exam which involves remembering ten passages from a set of essays and articles written by the royal family throughout Guzu history. The list changes every year and the exam form is recitation of the passages to a panel of three teachers. Remembering at least seven out of the ten passages flawlessly by heart is a requirement to pass; however, a passing grade is rarely considered good enough. Year 5-8: After passing the final exam of year four, students are taught imperial history, philosophy, mathematics, natural sciences, astrology, medicine, military theory, literature and politics. They are given access to the Academy library and study halls and encouraged to delve into literature outside of what they focus on in class. During these years, each semester has an exam at the end which tests a subset of everything the students have learned throughout the semester, culminating in a final exam at the end of the eighth year which challenges the student to demonstrate their knowledge of everything in an oral presentation before their teachers in each subject. The students are given the final two months of the final semester to prepare, and each exam may last a period of time based on an hourglass used by the teachers (roughly an hour and a half). In order to pass, the student must adequately present the subjects’ most important lessons with examples and answer any questions posed by the teachers without fault. Any deviations from this may result in a failure. Year 9-10: By this point, the student is considered adept at the key subjects that a statesman is expected to know. During the final two years, students are to begin work on their final thesis which will be presented at the Literature Festival. The student is free to choose his subject from those he’s been taught in the years at the Academy, even being allowed to compose his own work of poetic literature. The most commonly chosen subjects, however, are medicine and history. Philosophy is a subject students commonly start with, until their supervisor berates them for challenging the official imperial doctrine, at which point their careers may be in danger. At the end of the tenth year, the student presents his work to his supervisor and receives feedback and a final evaluation of their school performance as a whole. The evaluation takes into account three criteria: Academic performance, overall conduct and degree of expression of Guzu gentlemanliness, so-called junzi. It should be noted that to fail at any exam, even semester exams, automatically leads to expulsion with no recompensation for already paid tuition that now will be lost. However, tuition is a yearly expense, so to fail in the beginning of the year is a lot worse than to fail at the end. A student is allowed to enroll at the Academy and fail a total of two times, though most who fail the first time never return on account of both the academic and economic pressure. All books and tools used for tuition are to be paid by the student himself or the student’s family. The Academy provides only rice paper to write on. Theft is not uncommon, but punishable by beatings or, if the offense is grave enough, expulsion.
Junzi - the Elven Gentleman:
Junzi is a key term repeated throughout the whole education process. In addition to a formal education, the student is also taught the cultural aspects of the junzi - the ideal gentleman, portraying every quality expected of a man of the Gu-Wei state. Early on, students are taught the importance of diligence in one’s work and to avoid temptations like bullying, cheating and procrastination. However, due to the immense pressure to succeed as well as a thorough culture of competition, the former two are typically ignored unless the culprits are caught. Students are then taught the proper way to dress and address classmates, superiors, royalty, women, children and many more. They are taught to use self-deprecating pronouns about themselves and respectful, uplifting words to address others. Finally, students are taught proper form when greeting, writing, eating, bowing, kowtowing and more. As students grow older and master the basic concepts of a proper student, they are taught to express themselves before crowds, how to develop a sense of charisma and rhetoric, and traditions for bestowing gifts and arranging feasts and buying food and drink. They are taught to distinguish poor wine from good, and what sorts of food are acceptable when hosting other statesmen, superiors, subjects and royalty. They are taught to lead, and a select few exceptional students are given opportunities to lead social or construction-related projects in or around Shi.
Guzu architecture is one which has spread through the realm with great success, being adopted by the majority of ethnic groups throughout the realm. Typical traits for buildings is bilateral symmetry to signify balance and harmony, as well as strict adherence to the four winds: The city of Shi is built like a grid in that all buildings either face the south or the east. While this system fall apart towards the city fringes in the slum areas, the emphasis on city planning has spread to newer cities throughout the whole realm.
Buildings are typically built on slightly raised platforms. The main material used is wood, though larger structures such as temples, palaces, governmental offices and forts are primarily constructed from dark gray clay bricks or stone. The roofs are commonly supported by large wooden beams, and the timber frames used to keep the structure’s integrity connect primarily through joinery and dowelling alone - nails, glue or other adhesives are seldom needed. Walls are typically thin and movable as sliding doors, as the beams carry all the weight of the roof. The roof itself is gaubled with inclines ending in points at the tips. This style of building now dominates new architecture throughout the realm, with two types of housing complexes being the most common.
The courtyard (yuan): A small enclosure typically reserved for one family, containing houses for servants, kitchens, stables (if the family has the means), sleeping quarters, studies, dining hall and more, all surrounding a central courtyard with a paved core surrounded by grass and flowers. The yuan is built facing the south to absorb as much sunlight as possible, while the northern winds blowing in from the Midland Sea are left blowing at the back wall of the house.
The sky well (tianjing): More common in the west and south, where the heat gets intense in the summers. The tianjing is a large, circular (or rectangular) building complex that houses a community of multiple families. The term “sky well” comes from the large open courtyard in the centre of the complex, which allows for ventilation. Furthermore, the roofs cave inwards so rainwater may be collected in a well in the centre of the complex.
The architecture is particularly popular in the west, where is has largely replaced the traditional bamboo huts the riverfolk used to live in. Today, cities like Jiangla, Jianger, Kaan and Dosr-Ung are centres of Guzu city planning and expansion.
In the east, the architecture is prominent, but due to an already strong urban population, many of the cities have failed to adopt Guzu-style city planning, expanding in more natural sprawls. Furthermore, some local Esterling groups regularly express their preference for their people’s traditional stone huts. These share a limited number of traits with the Guzu architecture.
Druïtha architecture has adopted the fewest traits from the Guzu, taking a rather conservative approach to housing in general. Druïtha traditionally live in burrows between the roots of their sacred groves, the deepest of which stretch nearly fifty ten down into the ground, or in small huts fashioned from mud. However, due to increasing influence from their neighbours, more and more Druïtha move closer to Hi-Dûna in Dûna-de-Hama province in hopes that they may live in an actual houses. These typically belong to the younger generations, which are heavily condemned by their elders in Caitir in Druïthim province. Caitir is the largest Druïtha settlement which does not contain a single house. It is a collection of holy groves and home to several thousands who live in burrows or just around in the trees. The temperature makes heating obsolete, so the inhabitants need only protection from the elements, which the trees will occasionally be able to grant by themselves.
The Gu-Weian military is largely reliant on conscription for the majority of their armed forces, the base for which consists of a subset of every ethnic group in the realm except the Druïtha. Roughly 210 000 individuals are professional soldiers and mainly occupy themselves with maintaining the borders or keeping the peace. These professional soldiers are typically trained at a regional military base from the age of fifteen, and most remain soldiers throughout their whole lives. The salary for a Gu-Weian soldier starts at twenty bei a day and increases by ten with every five years of service time, encouraging prolonged stay (up to a limit of 80 bei a day, enough for oneself and one’s family to live quite comfortable in a lesser townhouse or at a large farmstead in the countryside if they spent nothing else for a year). Many soldiers send their money home to their families through the imperial postal service, but a fair number also live as kings by themselves in peace time. The salary for conscripted soldiers is considerably lower, topping out at three bei at the most - this is, however, still more than most businesses can afford to pay their workers. As a whole, the majority of Gu-Weian military funds go to their navy: Guzu warships are typically large and well-staffed with skilled archers and lethal artillery; this does make them extremely expensive, however, and is one of the key reasons as to why they cannot sustain a larger standing army.
The chain of command in the Gu-Wei army is divided into four levels: The head of command, the commanding ground officers, assisting officers and veteran troops. These have different names depending on which section of the military they belong to:
Navy: Admiral - Fleet Commander - Ship Captain - Phoenixes of the Blue Flames. The admiral functions as an overall commander and director of all naval forces, delegating orders to the fleet commander, who acts these out with the subset of ships granted to him. Each ship is commanded by a captain, and each crew ideally has a small squadron of Phoenixes, elite warriors whose experience serves to guide the conscripts in a conflict.
Army and cavalry: General - Commander - Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Red Flame. Both of these sections are led by the same commanders: Generals who lay down battleplans and delegate orders to their commanders. Commanders oversee a section of the army, like the cavalry or the infantry, and have a large number of lieutenants to move smaller companies according to the generals’ plans. Making up the bulk of the elite cavalry, as well as the main sources of experience to pass on to the conscripts, are Phoenixes of the Red Flame.
Artillery: General - Artillery Commander - Archer-Lieutenant - Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame. The generals analyse enemy positions and the surrounding terrain - locations of forests, canyons, hilltops and so on - and draft up plans for placement of archers, crossbowmen, catapults and rocket artillery. The artillery commander delegates the troops and equipment accordingly, typically sending archer-lieutenants into forests with a company of archers to ambush the enemy early on before retreating while larger artillery, commanded either by the commanders or by the generals themselves, bombard the enemy giving chase. Phoenixes of the Yellow Flame are the military’s rangers, elites specialising in assassinations, stealth and scouting out terrain and enemy positions.
The key requirement to sit in the chain of command (Phoenixes exempt) is to have completed an education at the Imperial Academy and to have focused one’s final thesis on military theory. To apply for a position at the chain of command, one’s thesis will be read and evaluated. If found satisfactory, the candidate will be given the rank of cadet and put through a three year intensive training program at a selected military institutions that delves deeper into warfare as a subject. The cadet learns of the various different battlefields throughout the realm; he learns to fight to a degree (though this is expected to be trained on one’s own accord); he learns to ride horses, navigate ships and to survive in the wild. At graduation, the cadet is promoted to the assisting officer rank. However, only those of the Huangzu can ever be promoted to the rank of general or admiral. This assures that the command of the military always stays in the hands of the imperial family.
Phoenix is the highest rank a professional soldier can reach without attending the Imperial Academy. It is given to soldiers who have served in the army for at least fifteen years. They are given the highest salary and the military will subsidise their enrollment at the Imperial Academy if they wish. Their rank gives them limited command, up to one company (100 soldiers), and they may take act as mentors for other soldiers to help them become phoenixes. Armourers, weaponsmiths and bowyers all line up to prepare equipment for Phoenixes on account of their deep pockets.
The Navy is the core of the Gu-Weian armed forces, centred around the use of great warjunks manned by archers and armed with heavy artillery like three-stringed ballistae, catapults and rocket artillery, flanked by lesser ships manned by more archers and boarding crews. The warjunks are plated around the edges of the deck and the deck is constantly kept wet during combat to avoid fireworks sparks setting the ship aflame. While the vessels are incredibly dangerous at a distance, the warjunks are very vulnerable up close - especially to fire ships and fire arrows. The lesser ships are therefore tasked with keeping assailants away from the warjunks.
Gu-Weian cavalry is small and underfunded on account of the empire’s terrain. While the bare open areas around Shi allow for cavalry charges and even chariots, the vast majority of the land within Gu-Wei borders is unsuitable for wagons or shock attacks on account of being too densely forested or too soft of ground. Still, a small number of elites make up an elite group of cataphracts, tasked with defending the generals on the field and flanking enemy forces if possible. Cataphracts are heavy cavalry armed with lances and coated in thick armour to withstand even arrow fire. While chariots are being slowly phased out along with the remainder of the cavalry, they are still used in races and to a very limited degree in warfare to carry around officers and wounded.
Gu-Weian infantry contains the fewest professionals of any military section. Being nearly entirely conscripted, the infantry are typically far from skilled, consisting of peasant levies given halberds and very light armour and tasked with keeping the enemy armies away from the artillery. Typical weapons include the ji halberd and spears.
Artillery is to a large extent considered the pride of the military, regardless of its size relative to other sections, as well as the amount of funds spent on it. This is in large part due to the advances in fire and powder-based weaponry. Black powder is made with Esterling charcoal, saltpeter made using bat guano found in the various ancient Druïtha burrows in the Heartlands, and sulfur harvested from salt pits in the southern regions. Artillery has the second fewest number of professionals, the vast majority of soldiers being conscripts given bows and crossbows. Siege weaponry comes in the form of triple crossbows, catapults with various forms of ammunition, and rocket artillery. The triple crossbow packs enough of a punch to pierce fortified stone walls, and the rocket artillery will set alight any city built with thatch roofs. The catapult is typically loaded with balls of hay rolled in pitch and lit aflame.
The Gu-Wei state have a number of heavily fortified positions throughout the land, the majority of which are now staffed at a minimum. There can mainly be found within each regional capital and serve as a base of operation for local peacekeepers and soldiers. Some forts also lie on the borders - there’s one on the northern border with the Zentauri.
The governmental structure of Gu-Wei starts with the Emperor on the top, for he makes any and all ultimate decisions and his word is law. The majority of decisions made throughout the realm, however, are not important enough to reach so far up. At the very bottom are the various tribal chiefs and town mayors, whose role it is to run the villages and towns and make certain the tax collectors’ due is paid. Overseeing the chiefs and mayors is a centralised department of statesmen under the governor. These statesmen typically hold office in a larger city council, reporting all noteworthy details about daily affairs up to to the governor in the provincial capital. The governor, with the counsel of his council, then makes province-wide decisions on work plans, spending, local taxation, placement of peacekeepers and more.
Furthermore, governors function as local judges in court of law in high-level criminal cases, where they judge in accordance with imperial law. However, provincial laws and paragraphs can be added into consideration in certain areas. As an overall goal, stability and harmony in a province is paramount to a governor - instability in one’s region is looked upon as an outbreak of plague that must be contained at all costs. As such, the Emperor stresses that the government maintain a strong, yet not too invasive, presence in all provinces - the people should not live under a pressure that could foment within them thoughts of revolution, but they should know that such thoughts will be met with death.
For these reasons, the governor functions to a large degree as a diplomat between the Gu-Wei state and the myriad of ethnic groups within its borders. Most of the time, this goes without issue, as the peoples of the various regions are well-acquainted with the iron fist of the peacekeepers; however, on occasion, no harmonious solution can be found, at which point the governor will ask the Emperor for further instruction. Up until now, the most common solution has been culling of the uprisers.
It should be noted that while, as mentioned above, any male citizen can potentially become a governor, it is incredibly hard to maintain one’s position as one without heartfelt conversion to the imperial doctrine. The Emperor keeps an office of scholars in every province whose job it is to ensure that the provincial governor himself remains loyal to the throne in Shi. This secret police is particularly active in Druïthim and Ithram, where the people demand that their governor be one of their own.
Due to the Emperor’s largely detached role in government beyond the occasional executive order, the Imperial family largely never leaves the palace of Shi, except to go to the summer palace in Red Clay province. This has continued for nearly a century, and those of the Imperial family not attached to the military (and even a number of those) have no concept of the actual state of the realm beyond their walls.
Gu-Wei religion is first divided in two: The Imperial Doctrine and the Honoured Faiths. The Imperial Doctrine, while primarily being a work to legitimise the rulership of the Huangzu, carries with it heavy religious symbolism that manifests itself as Guism, the worship and honouring of the Muha Empire and past Gu-Wei emperors. The Honoured Faiths are three broad generalisations of the Renzu faiths: Jiangjiao (riverfolk faith), dongjiao (eastern faith) and dujiao (Druïthism). Any other faith beyond these three is considered superstition and is forbidden from being practiced in the open. To control this, the state keeps tight control of all religious gatherings with the help of specialised peacekeepers familiar with local customs and rituals. Any deviations from these outside of the private home results in prison sentences.
In Guism, there are no gods, but ancient kings and heroes that have been venerated to godhood. There are to be given sacrifices in the form of food, commodities or live animals every month, lest they bring misfortune and instability upon the realm. The Month of the Ancestors is the most important time of the year. Since this religion is part of the Imperial Doctrine, all governors and students at the Imperial Academy are required to practice it. This has caused the majority of those in state positions, regardless of ethnicity, to pass on the faith to their family and peers. Today, Guism is the most widespread faith in the Empire, often mixing into local faiths.
While Guism has replaced many of the original deities in the ancient riverfolk faiths, the small collection of different, yet quite similar, sects spread throughout the riverlands keep a certain set of traditions that Guism has yet to wash out.
Veneration of livestock: All farm animals are sacred to the riverfolk, venerated for the food they give in the form of eggs, milk and meat, as well as for feathers, bones and hides. Animals are to be treated as well as people up until the point when they are to be slaughtered, which is done as quickly as possible to let the animal feel the minimum necessary amount of pain. The animal’s skull is then added to the family grave.
Reincarnation: The riverfolk believe that all living creatures have spirits which, upon the owner’s death, will enter a newborn somewhere else in the riverlands and continue its life until a new host must be found.
Along the northern borders of the riverlands, a small minority worships the Zentauri faith. These live in hiding as their faith is illegal under Imperial law.
Here, too, Guism has made a considerable dent in the local faiths. Luckily, the Guist concept of ancestral sacrifice to avoid misfortune coincides well with the native belief that not pleasing one’s family patron god or matron goddess will lead to the downfall of the whole clan. Esterlings, and to a certain degree Middlings, are incredibly proud of their heritage and clan identity is at times more important than wealth and position. This reflects itself in their religion, which almost universally operates by venerating their clan originator, whether that be an ancient mother or father. This person is referred to as a family’s patron god or matron goddess. While the concept used to go much deeper, with various rituals depending on the wishes behind the sacrifices, Guism has watered out many of the old rituals, and the two faiths are functionally the same with different semantics.
The exceptions to this rule can be found deep in the forests of eastern Origo and southern Ithram, where isolation from the outside world has preserved the ancient faiths of Esterling religion to the point where it no longer is considered part of the faith and instead supersition. These esterlings have public alters and arenas were different clans can publicly sacrifice and duel in the names of their patron and matron gods.
Druïthism is likely the most well-preserved faith on the whole among the ethnic religions. It has large geographic variations, but the general gist revolves around preservation of the sacred groves. The sacred groves are centres of communication between the mortal world and the divine beyond, according to the faith, and the whole society is structured around them. The most popular occupation for a Druïtha is that of the priest, which are respectively called druid and witch for man and woman. These are responsible for tending the groves, gathering food from around the forest and meditating on the nature of creation and life. Due to the scarceness of food in the region compared to their neighbours, Druïthism teaches asceticism for all its worshippers, both to keep them from sin (which for many is basically defined as anything their neighbours would do) and overconsumption.
What has created the largest rift between Druïthism and Guism is that Druïthism forbids its believers from seeking divinity from other sources than the sacred groves. This is why Druïtha who go to the Imperial Academy either keep up a convincing act or are forced to give up their faith and be forever shunned by their people.
Beyond these faiths, the Muckling faith is largely lost to time and is today considered superstition by the authorities. The Draconians to the south are given diplomatically-granted exceptions to the superstition rule, but their religions are not accepted anywhere else in the country beyond the regions of Drakka, Shajiang,the Deadlands and parts of Longway.
The Gu-Wei empire is, above all else, an empire built on internal and external trade. Despite the growing incompetence of the Imperial government, the economy of Gu-Wei is running incredibly strong. Being an agricultural powerhouse thanks to the riverlands to the west, Gu-Wei exports rice by the tons to the other countries of the continent, the most important customers being the Tsorodar to the south and the Thalassians to the east. Internally, the economy is fueled by the exchange of Esterling iron for riverfolk rice, most carried on Middling ships and transacted in Elven ports. The exploitation of Shajiang and Deadland salt is entirely nationalised by the state and distributed in exchange for a salt tax to avoid salt deficiency in the more populated areas of the country.
Luxury commodities also make up a sizeable chunk of the Gu-Wei economy, though these are largely traded internally. The most important luxury ware to the Gu-Wei is Druïtha silk, the value of the trade making up as much as a fifth of gross domestic product. It’s not only consumed at home, but also serves as an exception to the rule by being in great demand internationally, too. Demand is kept high by the slow-paced production, as well, so prices for silk remain higher still. The gemstone industries of the south make up a much smaller percentage of GDP, but are considered culturally important to the Guzu, and are thus artificially expensive despite the large deposits.
Being the main source of income for the state, the tax policy demands that every province offer a percentage of their quarterly production to the state’s use. This percentage varies depending on province and produce, with Red Clay paying up to three fifths of its iron produced per quarter on account of the massive scale of production, while Drakka pays measly ten percent of the crops they produce, as the overall yield is very low on account of poor soil. As the tax primarily affects communities rather than the individual, villages either grow closer or split apart; when the tax collector comes, one can either band together to pay or root out those who cannot contribute.
This method of taxation isn’t without its faults, and depending on what product is taxed, the tax collectors can cause local famines, tool shortages or loss of business. On more than one occasion have riverfolk villages starved because their crops are taxed, while Esterling villages’ larders are full as they pay their tax in iron.
Taxes is handled by a small ministry under the provincial governor, and everything they collect is stored in the provincial capital or in storehouses in other centres of commerce if the distance is too great.
As a whole, the government tries not to interfere too much with the regional trade, as the routes that already have been established already provide a most harmonious outcome. However, any ship bringing wares from another province must pay tariffs to the local provincial government before they may bring their wares onto the dock. These tariffs vary depending on the ware, with the grain tariffs being practically non-existent and the tariffs on Elven jewelry being so high that it’s almost improfitable to sell them to anyone but the richest of nobles. This also counts for international trade, with tariffs on Tsorodar minerals being lowered as a show of good faith.
Tsorodar sugarcane is almost like a drug to the Gu-Wei nobles, and is in the highest demand. Honey makes a close second, as the smokey flavours of southern honey is especially popular among the riverland gentry and nobility. Minerals like salt, iron, copper and others are also important. FInally, due to its properties of being thinner and translucent, Tsorodar silk is occasionally bought to be used in speciality products, such as hems, veils and undergarments.
Legend:
Orange dot with black centre: Imperial capital
Orange dot with red centre: Provincial capital
Orange dot without centre: Large settlement with at least 500 000 inhabitants.
On the map, the province names are written as they are referred to by their local populations. However, the Guzu refer to them by their names in guanyan. These are:
Beiguokou (N. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Dosr-Ung. Second most populous province in the country. Drier than the south, but still quite humid. Largely flat.
Nanguokou (S. Riverlands): Provincial capital is Jiangla. Most populous province in the country. Incredibly humid and warm with soil fertility that is replenished every year by floods. Flat.
Longwei (Longway): Provincial capital is Longway. Hot and humid region with the majority of its population being concentrated in the north. Dries out the further south you go. Borders Tsorodar. Hilly towards the south.
Longjia (Drakka): Provincial capital is Tazakk. Dry and hostile environment that supports a small group of Draconians, largely immigrants and escapees from Tsorodar.
Jiangdi (Jianger): Provincial capital is Jianger. Hot region with occasional dry seasons caused by desert winds. A centre for growth of grapes, dates and wheat. Heavily forested in the north.
Guoxin (Heartlands): Provincial capital is Chang’an. Heavily populated in the north with almost no permanent settlements in the south. Largely reliant on the Midland Sea for proteins and fats, but also produces large yields of agriculture and livestock products in the northern half. Very warm with cooling lake winds in the north.
Shiwei (Greater Shi): Provincial capital is Shi. The capital province and home to the largest city in the empire. Has little to no proper food production by itself and is entirely reliant on imports from its surrounding provinces. The fringes of Greater Shi are home to farms akin to those found in the Heartlands, but these don’t come close to producing the amount of food necessary to feed the capital. The majority of the province consists of small towns and villages surrounding the capital proper.
Duyi (Druïthim): Provincial capital is Caitir. The whole province is one great, largely untouched jungle. Simultaneously the richest province on account of the silk trade, and the poorest as almost all of the profits are collected by the provincial governor in Caitir. Incredibly warm and humid.
Duhan (Dûna-de-Hama): Provincial capital is Hi-Dûna. The home province of the only Druïtha trading port, through which almost 99% of all silk produced in the realm flows. A great deal of the previously untouched jungle here has been removed to make way for the steadily expanding provincial capital, as well as other villages which house Esterling immigrant workers.
Dasha (The Deadlands): Provincial capital is Sandcleft. The second least populated province, though an incredibly important one. Home to the largest salt mine in the empire, the Deadlands large serve as a penal province for prisoners and slaves. Rocky and dry, it contains vast gem mines, as well, making it an incredibly rich province despite its purpose.
Shajiang (Shajiang): Provincial capital is Graystone Keep. The least populated province. Shajiang also carries a status as a penal province, but whereas the Deadlands actually attracts a few law-abiding citizens on account of some fertile land in the north, Shajiang is nearly completely without fertile land, relying on food from Origo to sustain itself. Its main exports are salt and gems.
Nandi (Sunnaland): Provincial capital is Norrabi. An agricultural centre in the east, Sunnabi serves as the main source of food for the citizens of Dûna-de-Hama and much of the east. While they don’t have the same fertile soil replenishment as the Riverlands, much of the realm’s food is produced here.
Zhongdi (Midland): Provincial capital is Midta. Most populated province in the east, though in large part because of how the border is drawn. The provincial capital is the second largest trade port after Shi. Temperate and comfortably warm towards the north with much warmer and more humid regions in the sound.
Hongtu (Red Clay): Provincial capital is Amarra. Centre of Esterling industry and home of the largest forge-city, Amarra. The province name comes from the iron-rich soil, which collects and forms rust deposits in the various swamps and bogs. Wet and humid landscape.
Wugu (Origo): Provincial capital is Longon. A province which prosperity is divided near-perfectly down the middle: The west is advanced and well-connected to the rest of the empire; the east is considered backwards and underdeveloped, many living in much the same way as their ancestors did centuries ago. This is due to the nigh sudden appearance of thick forests halfway through the province, and these endless woods now feed a powerful charcoal industry in the province.
Yilan (Ithram): Provincial capital is Estenkampt. Like Origo, Ithram is also considered quite backwards as more than sixty percent of its landmass is covered in nearly impenetrable jungle. The provincial capital sits, however, on the rivers connected to old Muha, so it’s considered a vital part of the empire’s cultural exchange with its roots.
Legend:
Skyblue stripes: Wetlands.
Green stripes: Dense forests.
Blue stripes on the Midland Sea: Fishing grounds.
Red-marked gray triangles: Iron deposit.
Blue-marked gray triangles: Gem deposit.
White-marked gray triangles: Salt pit.
Green dots: Sacred Druïtha grove.
The west is endless fertile wetland: easy to defend, impossible to attack. The heartlands and south-centre are comprised of thick, impenetrable forests that offer little aid to any larger force. This impedes development in the area severely and trade within the region is rare and difficult. Typical crops include rice, wheat, soy, eggplants, cabbage, carrots, corn, peas, scallions, pineapples, coconuts and many more.
The east is a province rich in natural iron deposits littered throughout the multitude of swamps and bogs. The so-called ‘iron sludge’ is a staple of the province. There is also a charcoal industry to feed the fires of the forge-cities. Crops grown include wheat, millet, carrots, soy, bok choy and many more. Additionally, there is a small pipeweed industry in the fringes of the territory, though these aren’t legal under imperial law.
The south and southeast are areas poor in terms of food and water, but rich in jewels, salt and other minerals. To a large extent, these are provinces for slaves, Draconians and other creatures ill-suited for the rest of the empire’s core.
The Midland Sea offers much in terms of trade routes and fish.
There are various monsters throughout the realm, especially deep inside the forests of Ithram, Origo and Druïthim. These have never been recorded by Imperial statesmen, however, and are therefore considered by the Empire’s nobles to be the product of local superstitions.
In terms of regular beasts, the central realm is home to tigers and rhinos, many of which are hunted for their hides and bones. The forests of Druïthim are supposedly home to several herds of jungle elephant, but due to overhunting, these haven’t been seen for years.
The Gloch’ach’ribb: A small group of rebellious Mucklings in the slums of Shi. In secret, these rebels seek to unite their scattered people and carve out a homeland for the Mucklings somewhere by the Midland Sea. They work through hidden gatherings in the unspeakable ghettos through which none of the city guards dare or care to patrol. There, these Mucklings gather whatever weapons, tools, food and materials they can smuggle away from work so they one day can bring about their revolution. The Gloch’ach’ribb is currently unknown to the imperial forces, and the Mucklings very much aim to keep it that way. They are led by the youngest shaman among their kind, Ribbigus Croak, a youth of nineteen who apprenticed under the last true Muckling high priest, Uch’sochoch Frokk.
The Commission on Local Faiths and Customs (the Commission): A secret police dedicated to control the religious beliefs of the empire’s populations. They have known offices in every major city throughout the realm, but the majority of their membres live as undercover spies among the citizens. The organisation is managed and led by Puzu nobles elected by the Emperor, but the spies are human, various individuals who have either been bribed, beaten or blackmailed into service. A third group within the organisation are known as Inquisitors, who upon the discovery of illegal superstition will to the best of their ability see to it that it is never seen again. One final mission the Commission is tasked with is hiding the existence of monsters. They do this not by exterminating them, but by silencing whomsoever spreads word of their existence.
The Alchemists’ Guild: A suborganisation of the Imperial Academy, the Alchemists’ Guild are the minds behind the Gu-Wei weapons development and study of medicine. Made mainly up of Puzu Elves with a small subset of humans, they pursue military and natural research in the cellars of the Imperial Academy. They are not a secret organisation, but a number of their projects require discretion.
The Blue Phoenix Company: The largest shipping and trading company in Midland, responsible for nearly half of all ware transports in the realm. Their company headquarters is located in Midta and their shipping fleet is the largest one belonging to a single company, even outnumbering the old Royal Trading Fleet, simply to the point where the Empire has hired the Blue Phoenix Company on a long-term contract. The head of the company is Lord Unsur Quam (Yunsu Kuan in guanyan), a Middling nobleman with tight connections to the governors of both Shi and Midland and, though it’s not proven, the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
Snaketongue Slavers: The Snaketongue Slavers is a small family of Draconians who have been given permission to oversee the extraction of minerals in the Deadlands and Shajiang provinces, headed by the Bozak Zakkhashar (Sha Kushang in guanyan), a ruthlessly calculating individual with little sense for other things beyond efficiency and profits. While Zakkhashar’s ancestors used to hunt and catch humans, elves, Draconian runaways and kobolds and employ them as slaves, the slavers have a prisoner exchange agreement with the Gu-Wei government, so that all prisoners sentenced to a life in prison will be sent to the penal provinces to work. That way, they receive an almost constant stream of slaves to replace those who die in the heat of the deserts.
Tiger’s Fang Triads: Criminal organisation located in Midta. When Midta became the second largest trading port in the empire, it also grew into an arena within which outcompeting one’s rivals could mean the difference between prosperity and bankruptcy. This is where the Tiger’s Fang comes in - originally a group of thugs hired by firms to disrupt competition, it has since grown into an organised institution in the trade city’s underworld, whose support in vital when pursuing trade deals, profits or even the position as local governor. Today, the Tiger’s Fang runs a multitude of prostitution rings, winehouses, gambling dens and debt collection firms. After the Blue Phoenix Company, theirs is the second largest business presence in the region, making them practically untouchable to the local peacekeepers through bribes, threats and loopholes in local laws. Has a fierce rivalry with the Black Dragon Triads. Led by a council of Middling oligarchs known as the Eight.
Black Dragon Triads: Criminal organisation based in Shi. While not as large as the Tiger’s Fang, the Black Dragon Triads have a number of friends in considerably higher places, rumoured to even have connections to Prince Yanqiang. The Black Dragon Triads started their endeavours as thugs in a past governor’s employ, tasked with silencing rivals and critics. In the governor’s employ, they grew from a simple group of ruffians to a small army with deep ties to pipeweed and wine distribution. When the governor who had employed them eventually grew frightened of them, the triads had him replaced with another. Even while they are right under the nose of the imperial family, the triads’ connection to the prince makes them untouchable. Has a fierce rivalry with the Tiger's Fang Triads. The head of the organisation is a Puzu nicknamed ‘the Immortal’.
Emperor Yandi of the Wu Dynasty: Previously seen as a genius reformer mature for the throne, the last century hasn’t been kind to him. Over the course of the last hundred years, rivalry at court, the loss of his favourite concubine and a growing fascination for lecherous behaviour has led the emperor to shirk his duties as a leader and instead pursue the women of the court. Race: Guzu Elf (Huangzu). Family:
Prince Yanri: Eldest son and heir. An ambitious character with little love for his father. A prodigy in the field of statecraft, the prince does whatever he can in his power to keep the empire from crumbling from his father’s incompetency - at least, enough for the other nobles to see, anyway.
Prince Yanqiang: Youngest son, being born of Yandi’s deceased concubine, Songyan. A general of the imperial army at a very young age, Yanqiang lived his whole life in luxury. For a general, he is incredibly rash and foolhardy, faithfully believing in the supremacy of archaic tactics and frequently ignoring the importance of terrain and elements. He’s addicted to pipeweed and tries to keep it a secret, along with his relationship to his supplier, the Black Dragon Triads.
Queen Liansong: Wife. Daughter of the old emperor Guxiong and is in truth quite hateful towards the current dynasty. She believes her husband to be weak and secretly has an affair with her son, Yanri.
Taomei: Elder sister. A doting character who explicitly wishes for the emperor to take her as his concubine. Currently in charge of the winter palace in Red Clay, from where she writes and sends love letters to her brother.
Princess Wanmei: Eldest daughter. A young, naïve and spoiled girl infatuated with her elder brother Yanri. She frequently aids him in his schemes for the throne.
All Huangzu. At the very least, every Huangzu are cousins. Ever since Guxiong divided the elves into Huangzu and Puzu, no new blood has entered the royal pool.
Wu Liren, governor of Greater Shi: Also the principal of the Imperial Academy. A fantastically wise Puzu scholar with friends in the dark corners of the capital. He owes much of his status today to the Black Dragon Triads and frequently looks the other way whenever they wish to spread a little disorder.
Zhang Mozhang, governor of the Heartlands: A morally just and, some say, incorruptible Puzu statesman, strongly faithful to the emperor and his duties. Diligent in his work and humble in his act, Zhang is an exemplary governor, and the Heartlands prosper as a result.
Dosr im Khammed (Dushu Kang), governor of the Northern Riverlands: An estate farmer whose parents worked their way up from a small patch of land to a grand chateau in the northern riverlands. Charismatic and generous, Khammed is fond of spoiling his friends with gifts and banquets. Hopefully, he doesn’t grow too fond of it.
Bast im Ratinmaar (Ba Ran-ma), governor of the Southern Riverlands: Son of a long lineage of ancient riverland kings, Ratinmaar’s life has been enveloped in luxuries and expectations. Long before he was eligible to apply to the Academy, his family had mentors from Shi come to prepare him for his education. Ratinmaar has been molded into the ideal scholar, and while he serves his people well, there are speculations as to when this overworked statesman will snap under all the stress.
Jianger min Agung (Jiangdi Gong), governor of Jianger: Smart, handsome and charismatic, Agung is both well-liked and well-positioned. A good diplomat and able sailor, though at times overly in love with the flask.
Longway mi Ismaya (Longwei Ma), governor of Longway: A shadier character who’s been in power of Longway for quite a number of years. He keeps his head low to avoid drawing attention to his province and particularly the illegal production of pipeweed in the south.
Dai Borzalik (Bozan Dai), governor of Drakka: A Bozak born and raised on the Gu-Wei side of the border. Strict, earnest and calculating. Has a tense rivalry with Zakkishtahar and the Snaketongue Slavers to the east.
Áed the Pale (Bai Ye), governor of Druïthim: A majorly corrupt Druïthim whose pockets are full of wealth embezzled from the silk industry. The Commission makes certain to keep him well-bribed so they functionally can restrict more and more the cultural diversity of Druïthim.
Zakkishtahar (Zan Shita), governor of the Deadlands: Elder brother of the leader of the Snaketongue Slavers, Zakkhashar. His ties to his brother and the slavers makes him inclined to grant them quite a bit of autonomy, and to a large degree, the organisation owns the whole province.
Wang Ritian, governor of Dûna-de-Hama: An unpopular Puzu governor with little support from his subjects on account of his ethnicity. Wang has made numerous attempts to relate to the local Druïthim, but he struggles immensely.
Bonursan Sunna (Sun Boshan), governor of Midland: A wealthy, well-educated merchant with a tight connections to both the Tiger’s Fang Triads and the Blue Phoenix Company. Due to his powerful friends, he is often forced to appease them over the affairs of the city.
Ramansun Nomir (Numin Ran), governor of Sunnaland: Comes from a family of shipbuilders.
Pontansun Urmir (Yunmin Po), governor of Origo: Industrialist to the core, Pontasun relishes in the idea to expansion of the charcoal and iron productions.
Sun Zinong, governor of Shajiang: Highly corrupt Puzu elf who hates his station in the south. The only joy he finds in his work is the vast amount of wealth the gem and salt extraction bring into his pockets.
Honursan Yomir (Yongmin Shan), governor of Red Clay: Comes from the largest family of iron smelters in the east. Dedicated to upholding his family name of Honur and thus fiercely protects his own and his family’s honoured through duels and other means.
Ethensen Uramar (Yunman Sen), governor of Ithram: A rebellious character whose many years in office have made him hostile to the the central state.
Ribbigus Croak: The youngest Muckling shaman to ever live. Leader of the Gloch’ach’ribb.
Sun On-Yee: A low-level thug in the Tiger’s Fang Triads.
While a certain demigoddess converses with the lord...
The afternoon was possibly the hardest time to work. The principal’s study truly did match the ideals of heshui architecture; however, with Chuanwang’s current positioning, Zhong Wang’s eyes were being seared shut by a particularly nasty ray stabbing at him with all its dying strength as Heliopolis set for another sleep under the horizon. It had been like this for hours -- the only other spot in his office with as comfortable a position as this one had to be the tea table, but he couldn’t very well spill ink on the tea table scribbling notes onto bark strips, could he? With a pair of black-spotted fingers, the principal rubbed some exhaustion out of his eyes.
Knock, knock, sounded the door.
“Come in,” the master answered.
The door swung open slowly to reveal Nergui carrying a tray topped with a steaming bowl, a steaming cup and a bark strip scroll.
“Ah, is it that time already?” Wang asked and pulled his brush through a cloth rag. “What is it today?”
“Wen Bei’s beef noodle soup, sir, as well as the analysis you asked for regarding the flora of these islands.” She gently nudged some piles of tomes and scrolls out of the way to set the tray down in their stead.
“Oh, that quickly? The doctor and her apprentice are certainly swift on the delivery…” Wang took the down off the tray along with a pair of chopsticks. “... Will you be attending the concert tonight, by the way?”
Nergui nodded. “I was considering it, sir. From what you and young Taishan have told me, these ‘Nebulites’ seem like an interesting group, to say the least.” There came a short pause. “Are you?”
“Afraid I will be missing the spectacle, at least. There are a number of passages in this particular volume that require a deeper perspective. I would like to finish as much as I can by tonight.”
“Understandable, sir. Then I hope you wouldn’t mind if I excuse myself for the evening.”
“Oh, please, don’t let me keep you. They are certain to start any minute, are they not?”
Nergui pursed her lips. “Actually, master, they plan to begin at twilight, so about an hour remains.”
“I see, I see.” There was another pause. Wang took the steaming cup from the tray and took a long whiff of its greenish contents. He gave Nergui an expectant look. “Would that be all, Nergui?”
Nergui seemed to snap back into reality with a few blinks. She turned to Wang and nodded dutifully. “Yes, sir.”
Wang furrowed his brows curiously. “Very good, then. I’ll… Let you know if I have any-- Oh, no, wait, you’re going to the festival, right.”
“Right, sir.”
“Right.”
With the atmosphere of the room growing uncomfortably heavy, Nergui bowed slightly and turned to the door. She pulled it open halfway before turning her head and saying, “Actually, there was…”
Wang looked up from his soup bowl. “Yes?”
Nergui opened her mouth hesitantly. Eventually, she shook her head again. “No, nevermind. Have a good dinner, sir.” She closed the door behind her and left only echoing steps down the stone hallway. Wang frowned in concern. Nergui was rarely like this: Usually, she was of a much more confident character, with a keen sense of duty and dedication. He hadn’t seen her like this often. A few pensive chews coloured his face a curious hue as he unfurled the scroll from the physicians across his desk. He had never been much satisfied with doctor Zhou’s handwriting -- Shengshese was already bewildering enough on its own. His keen eyes were, however, well-acquainted with the River God’s calligraphic script, so much of what was written could be discerned from the context.
“... I see,” he mumbled to himself, “... So this new ‘sundrop nectar’ might have a soothing effect on sore throats. That should be treasured, then.” His eyes scanned further down the page. “What kind of name is ‘bellyburn root’? What does it-- oh… Oh, dear.” He slurped another pinchful of noodles. “... That poor lad. She better not be making him try all these.”
Another round of knocking struck the door quite gently. Wang barely looked up from the scroll as he shouted, “Come in.”
“Master Wang, if I may,” came the deep bass of Batbayaar’s voice. Wang looked up in surprise.
“Master Batbayaar? I was certain you would be at the concert. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes, sir,” the warrior poet replied and closed the door behind him. “It’s regarding the armament project.”
“The clay weapons? Has there been any progress?”
Batbayaar furrowed his brow. “It’s slow, sir -- slower than the spin of Tendlepog. However, Yum-Yum helped us make a discovery this morning.”
“Yum-Yum? Your son’s cloudling?”
“The very same, sir. It caused a bit of an accident in the workshop this morning, but in the process it led us to an important discovery…” The warrior laid a vague, gray shape on the desk, part of which broke apart brittly. Wang pulled his noodle bowl to himself. The shape appeared knife-like, but like one that had been made of wood, then been put into a burning stove and extracted as an ashen piece of charcoal.
“Batbayaar, with all due respect--”
“Master Wang, did we ever consider pressure as a solution?”
Wang frowned. “Pressure? In what sense?”
Batbayaar picked the ‘knife’ up again and turned it around in his hands. It flaked off some more, so his moves were smooth and careful. “We’ve previously tried to make the weaponry like we make pots: We’ve mixed together a batch of clay using all manner of metallic sands, wet earths and river mud; we’ve shapen it into blades and spearheads; then we’ve fired them in the kilns. However…” He unsheathed a prototype from a sheathe on his belt. It shone with a transparent glaze, save for the twin edges which had been roughly sharpened. “... These may be tough, but they respond poorly to sharpening, and most break when we test them with whetstones.”
Wang intertwined his fingers and rested his nose ontop of them. “So… This pressure you spoke of -- what are you suggesting?”
“Yum-Yum achieved something we’ve never observed before, master Wang. He tipped over a number of boxes from the top shelves just as he removed the moulding tools from this particular type. They hammered against it with great force of a short time, but…” He offered the flaky shape to Wang. “... This is the result of an instantaneous, single effort, and it has held its shape all the way here from the workshop.”
“Yes, and it’s falling apart, master Batbayaar,” Wang replied with a straight-mouthed frown.
“After such short exposure, it’s a miracle it ever held together. Keep in mind, sir, that this is sand that would normally have existed as a powder. Granted, there is a certain amount of moisture in this particular type, but with the right amount of pressure, I believe we can make greater strides.”
“And, if your opinion, master Batbayaar, where will we find a pressure adequate enough? I doubt we could hammer it with boxes all day and night.”
“If we could find a sufficiently hard surface to serve as the anvil, we could use Chuanwang as the hammer, sir,” Batbayaar replied with a half-smile.
“The Millennium Tortoise… As a hammer?”
“A press would be more accurate, when considering its purpose; however, know that this is but a piece of the puzzle, master Wang,” the warrior poet cautioned. “The ideal ratios of sands and clays must still be found out, as well as the firing process - or whether there need be a firing process at all. All will be revealed in time, though -- I am certain of it.”
Wang smiled. “I haven’t seen you this overjoyed about something since the arrival of the cloudlings.”
Batbayaar crossed his arms over his broad chest and thundered a chagataian laughter. “Moksha has advised me to step away for a moment from the gardens of the palace and meditate instead on the various arts we practice within the Academy. Besides, general Ming has almost become a match for me. I must prepare myself for the day my apprentice supersedes me.”
“Will you go from martial artist to claymaker, then?” the principal asked with a wry smile.
Batbayaar tugged at the goatee about his chin. Another chuckle escaped him and he began scooping clay flakes off Wang’s desk and into his hand, depositing them from there into a basket full of scrapped bark strips. “I doubt I will see such a dire change of heart in the near future -- however, a richer choice of trades in the future to complement my writing brush will only give me more muses to draw from.”
Wang chuckled to himself. “It’s a joy to see such determination from you, master Batbayaar. Every apprentice we take in with the years are overjoyed that you remained here instead of choosing the spear.”
Batbayaar’s smile faded a little and he turned to the door. “Oh, I am hardly through with my military career, sir. I will see to it that each soldier educated at the royal barracks will fight with the spirit of our Elder Mothers, and even then my task will be far from done.” He pushed open the door. “Will you be coming to the concert, by the way?”
“Oh, no, I will remain here to analyse some additional passages. Wish the musicians luck from me, would you?”
“Thank you, sir,” Batbayaar replied with a grin. “I will tell the rest of us.” He then stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
Wang snickered to himself and turned the ‘dagger’ around in his hands carefully. “... Pressure, huh.” He felt some droplets of joy evaporate out of his spirit and he looked out the window opening at the Heliopolis rays which were no longer there. A very distant chorus of instruments being tuned could be heard beyond the idle chatter and noises of the city below. The principal pursed his lips before laying the knife back on the desk, slurping some more noodles and returning to his studies.
Wang’s doing some studying. Nergui comes in with food. They chat a bit awkwardly for a few moments. Nergui mentions the concert and Wang’s not going. Nergui leaves. A bit later, Batbayaar comes in with news about clay weaponry. They’ve made a small breakthrough by singling out high pressure as a key factor in making the blades hard. Batbayaar suggests making them with the help of Chuanwang’s huge weight, which Wang entertains the idea of. They close off with some praise of Bat’s dedication to both school and the army, at which Bat vows to see the dreamer military get stronk.
“I’ve made my decision, ye gits,” Rog-mohog said proudly. For once, Torog and Gork stopped bickering and turned to the chief expectantly. Gork flashed Torog a smug smile and whispered, “I bet he’s gunna see it my way.”
“None’a you are tellin’ the troof, so I’m takin’ the pig ‘n the cow,” the chief declared. Both the others’ jaws dropped to the ground.
Gork raised his hand in protest. “Wot?! That wasn’t even an option, chief, ‘n--!”
“It wos, ye git. I’m the chief!”
“Buh-but…” Torog was at a loss. “Nuh, this ain’t roight. My sow was snatched roight unjustly, she wos. I demand recompun… Recompo… Recompusishun.”
“Recompensation?”
“Thassit.”
“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it. That’s wot you get for lyin’ to your boss,” Rog-mohog declared and began tugging the cow along by the horn and the dead pig by the leg.
“B-buh… I didn’t lie!”
“Neither did I!” Gork added.
Rog-mohog groaned. “See, now one of yous is lyin’! Let this be a lesson for ye - lyin’ to the chief is never good.”
Gork and Torog stood dumbstruck as Rog-mohog walked off with his prizes. The chieftain heard them begin to argue again when he had gotten some distance away. To think, not only had he gotten himself some lunch, but he’d also fetched himself a cow ripe for breeding. He’d have to bring it over to Lop’s ranch later so he could get it bred. For now, though, he’d bring it to his own hut.
The chief pulled his new property up the hill to his tent at the ankle of Big Rock. He gave his throne by the edge of the cliff a proud look and started lighting himself a fire. However, before he could get a spark going, he heard footsteps behind him. The unmistakable stench and mouthbreathing told him that it could only be one ogre on the planet:
His wife, Porky.
“Wot you eatin’, luv?” came a happy voice.
Rog-mohog frowned. “Pork, as usual.”
Porky plopped her behind on the grass and stared curiously at her husband making the fire. Her eyes flickered between the wood and her increasingly surly man.
“Wot you want?” Rog-mohog eventually muttered. Porky clapped her hands excitedly.
“Oh, you asked!”
“Wish I hadn’t.”
“Nuh, nuh, you gunna like this.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Porky produced a fistful of grasses and herbs. Rog-mohog looked unimpressed.
“You picked some weeds. Good girl.”
Porky frowned. “Nooooo! Smell them!” She shoved them in Rog-mohog’s face, nearly causing him to light the dry grass on fire. He tried to push her away, but Porky was strong - very strong. A few reluctant whiffs later, Rog-mohog actually found the smell to be alright - almost pleasant.
“Wot issat?”
“Herbs, luv. Found ‘em by the stream round the Rock.”
“Wait, wait… Stream round the--... Oh, croikey! I was supposed to get stuff for the readin’!”
“The spirit readin’? That’s tomorrow, innit?”
“How do ye remember such things?” Rog-mohog looked at his wife in disbelief. Porky grinned and poked her temple.
“‘S cuz I’m real smart.” She wasn’t, really - not even for an ogre. However, in this short moment, Rog-mohog found himself agreeing just a little. He eyed the herbs in her hand again. “Wot were these herbs for anyway?”
Porky blinked. “Oh, roight!” She reached into the sow’s open belly, grabbed the intestines and pulled some out. With well-placed bites, she cut out a section, blew the contents out and sat squeezing out the rests. Rog-mohog looked on in disgust and morbid curiosity.
“Wot you doin’, lady? We use the guts for rope, not eatin’!”
“It makes for weak rope,” Porky replied, “But this, this was somethin’ Wololo made up in a dream.”
“Was he smokin’ too much again?”
“Y’know how it is, luv,” she said with a degree of pity. “Anyway, see, wot y’do is… Hang on, gotta chew somma this… (smacksmack) Mmm… Thash real good, MM! Now somma theshe herbsh... Roigh, now y’jush… Spi’ i’ roigh’ in ‘n… (ptew!) … ‘N there! A sosig!”
Rog-mohog stared uncertainly and with some concern at the length of intestine, tied shut on one end and open on the other, into which had been deposited a mouthful of half-chewed herbs and pork meat, and which now looked like a stuffed sock.
“Wot issat?”
“A sosig!”
“Wot’s a sosig?”
“Pork meat in pork guts! See now, see now.” She held it over the fire for a while until the outside was charred and crisp. Then she handed it to her husband, who gave it a sniff. After a skeptical moment, he took a bite. The sosig tasted better than unseasoned pork, but only marginally. The herbs were interesting, but it couldn’t really compare with a thick slab of bacon. Still, it would be a nice way of using up those scraps nobody wanted.
“How is it?” Porky asked. Rog-mohog swallowed and hummed.
“Is a’roight. Wololo came up with this, y’say?”
“He says all kinds’a rubbish. Last week, he was sayin’ we’ll ‘ave self-walkin’ cows, but these ‘ave wheels and we can ride ‘em. He calls ‘em ‘cars’.”
Rog-mohog shook his head. “He needs to smoke less of that burnin’ bush.” He took another moment to ponder before clapping his hands together. “Roight! Proppa lunch time. Uh, Porky! Don’t mind if you make more sosiges, but I’ve got a job for you!”
“Oh!” Porky perked up. “Wot kind, wot kind?!”
“I need you to find me a dog’s toof, an owl feavvah, fresh moss and a dead ogre foot.”
Porky’s expression lessed in enthusiasm. “You mean do your job for ya?”
Rog-mohog shook his head. “No, no, see - I’ve found a boar bone plate.” He patted the boar carcass next to him. “Practically dun half the job myself.”
Porky took a moment to think about this. “Huh… S’pose you ‘ave. Fine! I’ll be right back, then! Love ya!”
“Oh, uh. Same, I guess,” Rog-mohog responded absent-mindedly as he flipped the porkchop he held in his hand to get a nice char on the other side.
Torog ‘n Gork - The Foightenin’ C) Rog takes both the cow and the sow like a boss.
Uffairz ov Stayte: X) Rog-mohog sends his wife Porky to get the rest of the materials after he himself acquires a boar bone plate. A+D) Sosiges are added to the ogre food pantry, starting a revolution in culinary culture! X) The spirit reading’s preparations are made… Tune in for the results next turn!
The Garden drifted lazily across the night sky. As usual, Mengcheng was rampant with baby wails and groaning parents; this had become routine, however. Most could sleep through meteor strikes by this point. Chuanwang gave a yawn that shook the waves below and bubbled along calmly. The gentle tremors rocking through the city sparked the occasional giggle or lulled the children to sleep. In some houses, it caused more to wake up in tears. In spite of all the noise that coursed through the city like a breeze, Wen De sat in deep concentration in the light of Moksha. He droned a bassy, melancholic mantra, glistening tracks of tears evident on his cheeks. A troubled breath escaped him and his eyes forced themselves open. He looked at Moksha; it stared knowingly back. Wen De lowered his head and swallowed. He drew the breath back in and resumed his mantra.
A distance away, Zhong Ming walked along the city wall near Chuanwang’s head. She held her strung bow in her right hand, her full quiver ready at her hip. The sea made her uneasy - even after all these years. She trusted Chuanwang with all her heart; she did not trust the ocean.
The colossal turtle suddenly gave a quiet, surprised drone. Ming looked down at the head. “What is it, great turtle?” she asked and unfurled the rope ladder which let her descend down to the head. From a leather satchel, she extracted the Babblefish, which greeted her with a, “Howdy, gen’ral. What’re you needin’ from lil’ ol’ me?” Ming place the fish down on Chuanwang’s head, holding her hand on the fish as well.
“Babble, what’s Chuanwang mumbling about?”
The fish hummed. “‘Parently, there’s a landmass on ahead. Chuanny here’s sayin’ he needs a rest.”
Ming made a face. “Is it new?”
The wooden fish shrugged in spirit. “He’s never seen it ‘fore, at least. How ‘bout y’all check it out, huh?”
“... I suppose the Academy would want to prospect the land at the very least.” She patted the turtle’s colossal head and picked up the fish.
“Hey, gen’ral.”
“Hmm?”
“‘Parently, just as you lifted me, Chuanny smelled somethin’ iffy.”
“Hey, it wasn’t me!”
“No, no, somethin’ else. Put me back down.”
Ming did as told and the Babble Fish kept listening to the turtle’s quiet droning. It occasionally let out the odd, “mhm… mhm… yup, yup… ooo, is that right… mhm…” Ming frowned impatiently.
“A’right, he’s sayin’ it smells civilised - as in, they’ve got stationary sewage.”
“Gross, Babble!”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, darl’. Anyway, they ain’t far. Just a couple hundred yards past the beach.”
Ming nodded with pursed lips. “Alright. We’ll head in in the morning. Tell Chuanwang he can rest.”
“Roger that, darlin’.” Chuanwang seemed to breathe out in relief before its one crystal blue eye closed, removing its bright reflection from the water surface. Ming satcheled the fish again and stared into the dark land barely lit by the Garden. From the moisture and scent of life she could tell that it was tropical, similar to the Foot. However, Chuanwang’s assessment hadn’t been wrong - the air here felt different. She supposed the answers would come the next day.
The usual expedition force had gathered by the Industrial Square gate. Zhong Wang had brought along Wen Taishan as an expert on botany to complement his own knowledge on the matter; Zhong Ming and two guards by the names Ekbataar and Timur, both of the Chagatai clan; and finally, Zhong Rong, a prospector. Wang went over a list of inventory, which Taishan had to confirm was complete. Ming had the gatekeepers open the great, creaking doors and the party proceeded as soon as the inventory was accounted for. They soon found themselves on a long stretch of white sand, the dry beach air contrasted by moister inland winds. Ming eyed the forest line suspiciously and strung her bow, the guards doing the same.
“We move as one, alright? No matter how interesting any of those plants are, you don’t run off and-- Taishan, TAISHAN!”
Taishan was already inside the forest, giggling joyously at all the foreign growths. Ming groaned and gave chase. Zhong Wang frowned and Rong gave him a shrug.
“Is he usually like this?”
“He tends to be more disciplined, but… Well, it has been a while since we made landfall. Still, they ought to not…” he sighed, “outrun the rest of us. Come on, Rong.”
“Hear, hear.” The two strolled along into the woods, which had already grown loud with scolding and excuses.
“What did I -just- say, Taishan?!”
“I’m sorry, general, really am. It’s just… I mean, have you seen this?” He showed her an enormous flower, one which petals were nearly the length of the clay sword at her hip. “Have you ever seen anything like this?!” He gloved one of his hands and picked a petal, shoving it into a small pot with some difficulty. Ming groaned.
“Flowers are not a valid excuse to endanger the whole expedition, Taishan, regardless of how pretty they are.”
“They are really pretty, gotta admit,” Timur added supportively. Ming shut him up with a glare.
“Regardless of how pretty they are, we -do not- endanger the--”
There came a rustling in the bushes. Ming and the guards turned around with arrows knocked to the bows. “Who’s there?”
A miniature deer with tusks bolted from the bushes, running adjacent to them until it vanished into the undergrowth of the forest. There then came the sounds of more footsteps, followed by voices quickly approaching. What came through the bushes were no deer, except very tall humanoids, who froze when they saw the Dreamers. Both were males, but another voice came from the rear, and a female appeared before going silent as well. Their skin, reminiscent of the Moksha were colored in the pattern of the stars. The taller male was a deep crimson, speckled with gold and swirls of black. He was bald, but his white glowing eyes conveyed intelligence. The shorter male, but still taller than the rest of the dreamers, had black skin with white swirls that glowed softly. His white hair was cut short. The woman’s skin was purple and pink swirls, the same as her hair, but it glowed softly. Her skin was riddled with stars.
All three had spears and bows, with simple quivers. The only clothing they had were cloth strips to cover their more sensitive regions. The taller male spoke something to the larger one, but was given no response. The female tilted her head inquisitively.
“God, they’re tall,” whispered Timur and lowered his bow. Ming and Ekbataar did the same and the general gave the master scholar a glance. Zhong Wang nodded back and Ming opened the satchel at her hip to extract the Babblefish. Holding it out by the tail, she motioned for the strangers to come closer.
The strangers did not move right away. Instead they gave each other looks and whispers. Mostly the males, whispering to the woman. She gave a side glance at times, before seemingly being fed up by the males, who stepped forward, planting her spear in the ground. With a couple long strides, she was before Ming. the tall woman looked at the Babble fish curiously. The Dreamer gestured for her to touch the fish, and the woman swore she could see it winking playfully at her.
Hesitantly, the woman reached out her hand and touched the fish.
“Howdy,” it went in a soft voice.
“H-Hello?” she said.
“Forgive my piscine appearance, madam - it’s just the way my creator made me. I’m the Babblefish. You talk, I translate. Usually, I can only translate one way, but miss Ming ‘ere found a nice lil’ loophole by holding me while you’re holding me. Y’see, I can only translate into my user’s language, so if you’re both using me? Eh? Eh?”
“Then we may understand each other?” she said looking at Ming. Her voice was exotic, rich but sweet.
“As long as we stay connected through the fish, yes,” Ming answered with a smile. She visibly calmed down and straightened herself a little. “We are the Dreamers, sons and daughters of the Elder Mothers. We come in peace, with no intention of harming anyone or anything that lives on these lands. All we ask is that we may rest our vessel at your beaches and peruse the woods for herbal remedies and the ground for mineral treasure.”
“Dreamers?” The woman said, as if thinking. “I’ve heard that name before… Oh! That’s right, you know Arya, correct?”
The Dreamers blinked at one another. Zhong Wang stepped forth and put his hand on the fish. “We know -of- her, but none of us have actually met her. Well, except for me once or twice in my youth. There should be a few more of us who would know her personally, though.”
The woman blinked, before frowning. “A shame, she speaks so highly of the dreamers. But where are my manners? Welcome to Nebulan, I am Lily, Daughter of Orvus and Rowan, sister to Ava. Thought I cannot say for sure if you are allowed to stay, I’m sure no one will really care. Come, I am sure Arya would like to see you.”
“O-oh, we--”
“We would love to come along,” Zhong Wang interjected with a smile. “I am Zhong Wang, headmaster of the Hermian Academy. This is Zhong Ming, my niece, general of the Dreamer forces.” Ming nodded politely. “We will follow if you’ll take us.”
She nodded at the both of them. “That is Cassian and Apollun. Please, follow us and be weary. We are not the only ones that now call this place home.” she said, letting go of the fish. She walked backwards before picking up her spear and speaking to the men, before she beckoned for them to follow.
Into the jungle they went.
The foliage was thick, green and abundantly beautiful. The trees were old here, and giant with their canopies blooming in size and teeming with life. Large colorful lizards basked upon warm rocks were the sun's rays could hit and the birds flew every which way, singing their myriads of songs. Insects both small and large buzzed about, dining what they did, but the foreign group stayed on edge throughout the trip as they passed creeks, ravines and went over hills. Their eyes were constantly on their surroundings. Every snap of a twig was met with a whisper and raised spears. But as they drew nearer to their destination, they began to see more of their kind, the tall beings wore simple clothing and were exotically beautiful. All had weapons of some sort as well and they were never alone either. Some even flew! But most importantly, all eyes were upon the Dreamers as they walked and there were many hushed whispers.
Lily usually dealt with the onlookers, waving disapproving hands at the others and speaking words. They came in so many colors and patterns, that it was easy to tell them apart. Eventually they reached a very large clearing, guards practically everywhere holding spears, always looking outward. There were many farms here, not as grand as the dreamers but of a different design and different crop. There were also many simple houses, with leaf roofs and wood. But perhaps the jewel of the area was the magnificent structure that rose to meet the stars. It was a plethora of colorful rocks that twinkled in the sunlight.
They walked past the mega structure and went onward as children, some roughly the same size as the dreamers, ooed and awed at the newcomers and try as she might, Lily could not dissuade them. Most curiously were the pale skinned, pointy eared children who were much smaller than the colorful ones. They looked nothing alike and were perhaps a different species entirely. As questions were made, they at last came to a clearing of two immaculate wooden cabins, spaced a ways apart. There were many flower gardens here and rocky paths.
As they walked to one cabin, the door opened and out walked a woman of white. She wore a light blue dress and a had a top her head a wide brimmed sun hat. Her smile widened as she floated over to them and without even waiting she began to hug each and every dreamer while saying, "Oh what a pleasant surprise! I was wondering when you all might show up. Welcome! Welcome to my home!" She beamed. The hug itself was the warmest one they had ever received and that warmth was not the heat kind, but the sort that made the soul feel safe, and less weary. The Dreamers hummed gleefully and bowed to her.
“D-did you expect us, Lady Arya?” Ming asked uncertainly. “Y-you are Lady Arya, correct?”
Arya looked at Ming, her expression unwavering. "I am indeed." she said bowing to them, before rising with unnatural grace. "It was always in Wenbo's soul to explore. I would have found you eventually but I am glad that you've come to me. Now, where is my dear brother and sister if you don't mind me asking?"
“The Lord and Lady, correct?” Zhong Wang asked. He wore a calm demeanour about him, if not one slightly tinted with heartfelt pain. “Lord Wenbo is unwell. The lady watches over him daily.”
A look of worry washed over her face as she looked upon Zhong Wang. "Where is he?" she asked.
“At the royal palace, my lady. He is being tended to by our finest physician - one every one of us would trust with our lives.” He bowed his head. “You needn’t worry.”
”Worrying is what I do best, I’m afraid.” she said with a small chuckle. ”I shall go see them soon, but for now I’m guessing you have many questions?”
“A number,” Wang confirmed, “the majority of which regard this island, these people and your esteemed self, Lady Arya. Would you mind if my assistant for today chronicles our conversation?”
Taishan blinked. “W-wait, I’m your assistant?”
“Nergui isn’t here, well, is she?”
Taishan nodded. “So it seems,” he mumbled and produced a roll of bark strips connected into a scroll by flax thread. Zhong Wang nodded approvingly. “What is this land?”
Arya giggled. "We call these islands the Eye of Desolation. It was formed thousands of years ago by my father, Orvus, who in the infancy of this world… Threw a meteor at it. From destruction, came life itself. Funny how that works." she mused. "This island is called Nebulan, home of the Nebulite people. Years ago Orvus returned and built upon it the foundation for this fledgling civilization. It has only improved since."
“Certainly quite a feat. Would you tell us about the Nebulite people? What is their culture like? In all our years of travel, we have yet to meet their likeness anywhere else.”
"Where would I even begin?" she said. "The Nebulite people are scattered across the world. Each group now different than the others. Here they are a simple farming people, who enjoy crafts and the arts. There is peace here… Or there was until a certain avatar decided to bring… Creatures with it. But that is not a pleasant topic of conversation."
“I will not pry, then,” Wang assured. Taishan scribbled furiously down the conversation. “What manner of crafts do they practice here?”
"Wood working, stone masonry, fletching, weaving, just to name a few. Some I've taught to fight and others I've taught to dance. Oh! And let's not forget clay working." she said smiling widely.
“Dancing, is that so?” said Wang with a smile. Ming perked up. “Yes, our Elder Mothers were quite fond of dancing. The art of the War Dance was even passed down through our parents - well, some of them.”
“Batbayaar is teaching me,” Ming blurted out. Wang gave her an acknowledging nod.
Arya eyed Ming happily. "I remember those days fondly. Waking up full of excitement at the chance to dance. Mom was a good teacher." Arya reminisced. "Batbayaar sounds familiar, but my siblings had… A lot of kids. I'd love to see you dance though." she said to Ming.
Ming cleared her throat. “The dance is less of a dance and more of a… Elder Mother must’ve explained the basics to you, yes? The martial dance?” Taishan took a breather and dipped the worn brush in ink.
Arya nodded. "Of course dear. I've even added to it over the years."
Ming’s eyes twinkled. “C-could you show me-- us?”
Arya smirked, ”Of course, but not now, I’m sure there are more questions to be had, and I’d like to see the Lord and Lady first.” she said with a wink.
“A request that can be met,” Wang agreed. “You have given us knowledge, so it’s only fair that we grant your wish as well.” He bowed curtly. “If you would follow us to the beach…”
Before she followed them, Arya turned to Lily and said, ”Double the defenses and if anything happens, pray.” Lily nodded before turning to the other Nebulites. Arya then began to follow the Dreamers.
As they passed through the jungle, Ming quietly noted, “You aren’t leaving anything to chance, are you? Is this mysterious foe that powerful?”
”There are many of them.” Arya said quietly, ”They haven’t attacked yet… But I can hear them every now and then. They probe our borders, checking our defenses. One can never be too sure when they might strike.”
“That’s terrible… Can the village withstand them, you think?”
”The Order I have taught, will do their best. We should be fine.” she said reassuringly.
“A standing force?” Ming proposed. “An order of elite warriors? Batbayaar’s told me that we should make one of those for the royal family when our young grow up.” The glistening of the beach filled their views. “... We’re close now. Chuanwang should be right over here.”
Sure enough, the resting turtle laid by the beachside, droning a quiet snore to the beat of the waves. The city on its shell was alight with the buzz of life, and the many buildings stood bathing in Heliopolis’ rays.
The Nebulite woman paused before the view, her mouth agape. ”Well…” she began, ”He’s beautiful.”
“He’d be happy to hear that,” said Ming and brought the group to the great staircase leading up the turtle’s flank. They ascended the flights together and the gates opened upon recognising the group. Inside, the market square was buzzling with hundreds of Dreamers, primarily young children. They zoomed around through the streets, but many stopped and stared at Arya with open mouths. As one stopped, more followed, and soon the streets were flanked with curious Dreamers all the way to the inner city gates. Ming and her soldiers formed a protective triangle formation around Arya and occasionally had to reroute curious toddlers straying too far from the flanks.
Arya couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. ”My oh my, so many little ones! You’ve all been very busy I see.”
“Yes, a phenomenon spurred on by divine aid,” Wang explained. “It was odd when it happened, but it was all explained quite recently.” He stopped and bowed. “If you will excuse us, Taishan and I will return to the Academy and archive our findings.”
Ming nodded. “Alright.”
”Farewell.” Arya said to the two Dreamers. She then turned back to Ming, ”Divine aid? Who helped?” she asked.
The other guards remained to guard the door, and as Ming and Arya entered the courtyard of the royal square and moved towards the palace, Ming thumbed over to a great statue depicting a humanoid shape in all its heroic glory. “That would be Yullian the Helpful.”
Arya looked upon the statue and frowned. ”I’m afraid I’ve never heard of him.” she said.
“Neither had we until quite recently. They’re a pretty mysterious being, for sure. Only one that really knows them is, well…” She swallowed. “Wouldn’t wanna bring that up before we see the lord and lady.”
”If you insist, but I would like to know more about him, if this person wants to talk.” she said warmly.
“She wouldn’t,” Ming insisted with a sad frown. “Apologies, but her spirit is quite ill and she rarely talks to anyone anymore - not even her own children. I mean… I suppose I can ask someone to introduce you, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
”Hmm.” she narrowed her eyes if thinking. ”You would be surprised what a little compassion can do. I’d like to try, all the same.” she said smiling.
Ming appeared unconvinced and gave a pitying nod. “As you wish. I’ll see that it’s done after our meeting with the lord and lady.” As the arrived at the palace gates, they were approached by a robed man trailed by two boys in the middle teens. They all gave Arya hard, curious stares. Ming bowed. “Lord De. Lord Tu, Lord Yun. Moksha’s light bring you peace and tranquility.
“May Moksha’s light bring you relief and understanding, general. Who have you brought?” asked De back with a smile.
“This is the lady Arya, our aunt and leader of the Nebulite people. We have come to see the lord and lady.”
De blinked. “Aunt Arya, is that really you?”
She nodded, ”Hello De, it’s so good to see you again. And who are these two?” she said, looking Tu and Yun.
“My, what ages it has been! I was, well, I cannot even recall how young I was when we last met. Either way, since then, I, too, have started a family of my own! These are my sons Yun and Tu - well, two of my sons, anyway.”
“The oldest…”
“... and handsomest,” they boasted one after the other.
“Boys, not now.”
She chuckled. ”Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Oh I’m so happy.” she said cheerfully.
“Oh, what for, aunt Arya?” De asked.
"To see my family thriving." she.
put simply.
“Oh,” De chuckled. “Of course. We are happy to have been so fortunate, and even happier that you would come to visit us.” He nodded at Ming. “Mother and father are upstairs in the royal chambers. Do they know you are coming?”
“We haven’t sent word,” Ming explained.
“Would you like me to tell them?”
“No, I think they would prefer the surprise. What do you think, lady Arya?”
”A surprise would be wonderful.” she mused.
“Then your arrival will be our little secret. Hear that, boys? No telling grandma and grandpa, alright?”
“Sure, dad. Have a nice day, aunt-- uh, I mean, grandaunt Arya,” Yun said with a bowed. Tu followed along. De smiled proudly and bowed along.
“Moksha’s peace be with you.”
“And with you, my lord,” the general replied.
Arya bowed humbly to them. ”Likewise, have a blessed day.”
The three remained behind as Arya and Ming continued into the palace and up the stairs. At the foot of the third floor flight, a middle-aged lady was wiping her hands with a cloth. She blinked at the arrivals. “General? Have you come to see the lord? And, uhm… Who’s this then?”
“Doctor Zhou, may Moksha bring you wisdom and knowledge. I am bringing the lady Arya to see the lord and lady.”
Zhou made a face. “Huh. Well, if that isn’t something. You wouldn’t happen to be related to our aunt Arya, would you?”
Arya laughed, covering her mouth. After a minute she said, ”Zhou, I am your aunt.”
“Fascinating,” Zhou answered and stuffed the rag in her satchel. She approached and cocked her head to the side, wearing a sly smile. “To think that even though I last saw you so many years ago, you haven’t aged a day. If you happen to know the recipe for an immortality potion, I would love to know it.”
”Hmm, if only there was such a thing.” she said, rubbing her chin. ”I would gladly give it.” she smiled.
“Yeah… The afterlife is eternal, but the ‘life’, well… Not as infinite. Now, regarding the lord, well… He has a terrible cold - he’ll be fine, but keep your distance to avoid spreading the disease, if you would.” She looked up the stairs. “I’m going back to the Academy to fetch some more sootheleaf and knacker root. While you’re up there, would you make sure the lord drinks his medicine? He never does when he’s alone.”
“The lady isn’t with him?” asked Ming.
“No, she went to see to the reconstruction of the broken grain silo. She should be back later, though.”
”Not to worry, I’ve never been sick in my life. But I’ll get him to drink his medicine.” Arya said softly.
“One time’s always the first. Take care now!” Zhou went off down the stairs.
Ming went up a number of steps. “Worry not, lady Arya. Even if we don’t see lady Ai today, Chuanwang will likely need a few more days to rest up. We won’t leave right away.”
”Oh my dear, I can always go find her if I need too.” Arya mused.
“Understood. This way, my lady.”
They continued up to the fourth floor, where the stairs gave way to a long hallway that split into three directions - left, right and centre. The centre one was short, leading up to a finely adorned door. Ming knocked on the door and waited. After a moment came a frail voice, “Come in…”
Ming pushed open the doors and entered. “Oh, it’s you, general. Have there been more news of destruction and loss?” Wenbo gave a sneeze and sniffed.
“My lord,” Ming said with a deep bow. “You have a visitor?”
“Hmm?”
Arya entered after Ming, a wide smile on her face. ”Hello, Lord Wenbo.” she said playfully.
Wenbo gaped. “A-Arya?” He sat up in his bed and tightened the loose robes about his figure. “Wha-... How--... It’s-...” He smiled. “It’s wonderful to see you, my sister. I would be better dressed, but, well, you’ve caught me in a bit of a predicament.” He sneezed again. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Ming, meanwhile, took a step back and went outside.
Arya held up a hand, ”Now now, you’re sick remember? Don’t worry about a thing.” she said walking over to him, and embracing her brother. ”It’s good to see you again.” she whispered. After a moment, she pulled away to look at him, a small smile on her face. ”It seems your home landed upon mine. I was hoping you would find me eventually, intentionally or not. I would have looked for you years ago… But I had duties to my people.”
“Your people? What sort of people do you govern?”
”I was going to tell you… All of you, but then Tendlepog became something else entirely. Around ten years ago, Orvus and Ohannakeloi created a people in his, mine, and Laurien’s image. Shortly after, Orvus and Laurien disappeared and I was left to watch over the Eye of Desolation. I’ve had my ups and downs… but things are much better now.” she smiled warmly.
Wenbo nodded. “I would be honoured to listen to your story if you’d tell it, sister. I’ll have Bei set the teapot to boil and Tian bring up some sweetbread.” He sniffed and stared out the window while wrinkling his nose. A moment passed before he muttered “ugh, nothing” and turned back to smile at Arya, sneezing promptly thereafter. “There it is.”
Arya beamed him a large smile before she began her tale of the last ten years. She told him how she met K'nell upon Tendlepog, how she met the Selka prophet, how she reunited with her old friend Split and then her arrival upon the Eye. Then she spoke of how she dealt with her loneliness and her thoughts and feelings about Orvus and Laurien seemingly abandoning her with no one to turn to. She did not tell him any of her thoughts about Paradise and what she did was vague at best.
Her stories went on until they got to the present and how she met Ashalla, Arrayn, Karamir, and then Shengshi all in the span of days. It was then she told him about Laurien's deceit and betrayal and the pain she caused. She mentioned the avatar Abraxas and his dealings with causing the moon to fall and the motes to spread. She spoke of Vrog and the creatures he brought, and how scared she was for her people. Then she grew quiet.
"I should say that Abraxas didn't just lay siege to our world… He mortally wounded Kalmar. The God of the hunt is dead and in his place, Karamir has ascended." she took in a deep breath. "But before that… Orvus had to give up his divinity to stop his avatar and in doing so… I've become a demigod as well." she said, looking at Wenbo to gauge his reaction.
Wenbo bit into a crumbly piece of sweetbread with fruit, his black brow furrowed greatly. “... This is a lot to take in… Mother and mom told us about the fall of Vakk, but… To think two more have passed.” He gave Arya a stern look. “You haven’t told anyone else, have you? That gods are, fundamentally, mortal?”
"The fall of Vakk? When did he…" her voice dropped and she blinked. "It seems I wasn't told everything, but no, I haven't told anyone specifically. Though the Nebulites know that Orvus is no longer divine." she said.
“... That information…” He grit his teeth and his voice became a whisper. “It cannot be allowed to spread. As much as I apologise for saying this, sister, I was careless just now and spoke too soon - Vakk’s death should’ve remained a secret, even to you.” He eyed the door. “It’s our duty as leaders, after all, to maintain the piety of our people.”
"You sound so much like mother." Arya sighed. "I understand where you are coming from, I do. But keeping secrets does no one any good in the end. But we shouldn't have this talk, not when I haven't seen you in years."
“Agreed.” Wenbo poured another cup of tea for the two of them. “So… Demigoddess. That makes three divine relatives. If I didn’t know better, I would almost say the Dreamers were the babies of divinity.”
"You practically are." she giggled before taking a sip. "And what's this I hear about a Yullian? That's not a name that strikes any bells."
“Right, Yullian. They are an elusive character - last seen a few weeks ago. Frankly none of us knew about them before they revealed themselves by constructing a colossal statue of themselves.” He frowned. “Apparently, they have been living among us for ten years, speaking as themselves to no one - except…”
She raised a brow. "Except…?"
“... My granddaughter, Song.” He drew some long, quiet breaths. “... Anyway, they aren’t around anymore. At least, we cannot find them.”
"Hmm Song, what a pretty name. I've already asked General Ming if I could meet her. I've been told she's not willing to talk to anyone. What happened, if I might ask?" Her voice was soft.
“If possible, I would rather not talk about it. It’s a shadow over our city that is still very much in the process of healing. Forgive me, Arya, but I would rather it be so.”
She smiled weakly and gave a small nod as she sipped her tea. "Besides that… Things are well here?"
“Apart from that, and a few other things, existence aboard Mengcheng is blissful. We have all the food we could eat, all the houses we could fill, and only truly need to stop our exploration of the world to fill our storages with resources or, if the seasons are dry, our pots with clean water. Most of that comes from the rain, though, and the skies have been kind this year, praise be to Li’kalla.”
She chuckled. "I think the rain is the last thing on Li'kalla's mind but I am happy to hear that life is good here. It fills my heart with joy, it does."
“A rain goddess that thinks not of the rain?” Wenbo chuckled. “Interesting characters, the divines… I suppose I should start referring to you properly now, shouldn’t I, lest mother scold me for my manners in the next life?” He bowed his head and smirked. “Your Holiness.”
Arya rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Please no, at least not around me."
Wenbo grinned. “I’m merely jesting. Tell me, are the Nebulites fond of music?”
"I've taught them dancing but alas, music always escaped my grasp. If they are anything like me, they'll love to listen to it." she mused.
“Then let us come over and play some for you. I’ll-I’ll do my best to come along! I’m not so old as to let a cold get the better of me.” The old dreamer began setting aside teacups and plates so he could rise out of bed without tipping them over.
”Wenbo… You know you shouldn’t leave bed. In fact, you probably need to take your medicine.” Arya chided.
Wenbo slowed down and muttered, “I just drank it.”
”Still… We could always bring my people here?” she said.
“Well… How many are you?”
"Not everyone would be able to attend, a few will have to stay behind to protect things but we number at about two thousand or so." she said thoughtfully.
Wenbo furrowed his brow. “I… I doubt we could host close to that many. Not to be rude, sister, but our policing forces have not the numbers to oversee… That many.”
”Then the beach will suffice. We’ll just have to be extra vigilant.” she said, putting a balled fist into her other hand.
“I trust your people to be civil and well-cultured in Shengshese etiquette, given what mother had us go through. We cannot provide snacks and wine for all of them, unfortunately, but that is to be expected when your people are so numerous. We will see what we can make of tea, perhaps.”
A sheepish look crossed her face. "Uh… Well, they're civil but not very well versed in Shengshese etiquette I'm afraid. But really Wenbo, it's okay. We can bring food and drink as well." she said.
Wenbo furrowed his brow. “Well… I trust you, then. Have them gather on the beach and I’ll ready the band on our part.”
"I can do that but first… I need to see Song." she said, getting up.
Wenbo groaned. “Arya, please…”
"I can help her, now more than ever before. It is my duty, Wenbo. I will no longer stand idly by while people suffer, powerless to help." she said firmly.
“She’s--!” Wenbo swallowed. “Will you enchant her, is that it? Lock her feelings inside herself with magic? Divine power can heal many wounds, sister, but can it truly fix those that bereave the soul of joy?”
"Perhaps it can, perhaps it can't. There's only one way to find out, brother. A little compassion can go a long way." she said, her expression saddened.
A hand dragged itself slowly across Wenbo’s face and he sighed into it. After a few seconds, he called, “General Ming!” The door swung open and the general entered and bowed.
“Your orders, my lord?”
“Take my sister here to see Song. Stop by Fei on the way and pay her a small visit, too. If she is to see the spark, she may as well see the flame, too.”
Reluctantly, it seemed, Ming uttered firmly, “As you wish, my lord,” and turned to Arya, gesturing to the doorway, “If the lady would follow.”
"Thank you, Wenbo. I'll see you soon." Arya said softly.
“You won’t be thanking me after you’re done,” Wenbo replied somberly, facing away from the two. “I wish you good luck. Help her if you can. Moksha’s tranquility trail your feet.”
She bowed and then followed Ming out the door. They walked down the stairs, the general silent and strict in her demeanour, though leaks of emotion dripped through occasional twitches in her eyes and the shape of the curve of her frown. She kept one hand firm on the pommel of her blade and the other swinging back and forth to the rhythm of her steps.
Arya's face was neutral as they walked, yet there was great thought behind her eyes. The streets they passed through were abuzz as was usual in the afternoons. Even as Heliopolis began to redden the sky, the Dreamer children flew back and forth across the paved roads, running in circles around Arya and making all sorts of comments about her height, complexion and brightness. The outnumbered adults did their best to shepherd them away.
It brought a smile to Arya's lips and she did not mind, giving reassuring comments and kind words. Nonetheless, the parents apologised for their children’s behaviours. The torrent of happily squealing children seemed endless, culminating into a small wall outside one specific house. While the children all individually sought to gain Arya’s attention, Ming rapped on the front door and waited. A minute and another round of raps passed before the door opened and out looked the groggy face of a woman Ming’s senior by about a decade. She looked surprised when she saw who had been rapping and said,
“Heeeey, general? Out of everyone I would expect, you are not one of them. Unless--”
“No, Fei, I have not changed my mind.”
“Figured as much,” she muttered. “What do you need?”
Ming stepped to the side and thumbed at Arya, who was still under assault by the tidal wave of curious kids.
”Hello Fei.” Arya began as a couple girls pulled on her sleeves. ”I’ve come to see Song.” she said.
What little colour Fei had in her face left and she gave Ming a hard look. “Is she serious?”
“Afraid so. We’re heading over to her house later. Thought she should know a bit more about her situation before we did.”
Fei drew a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know how I feel about this whole thing, Mingy - I already take care of, of…” “Yes, and you’re doing a stellar job, Fei, but…” Ming shifted her look to Arya and back. “She might be able to help her.”
Fei did the same, but eyed Arya for a little longer. “... If you say so, general. Come on in, you two. I’ll go get the oldest.”
Ming nodded and stepped inside, beckoning Arya after her. She followed, bending down to enter through the doorway. The inside of the house was incredibly roomy, almost deceptively so judging from how it looked from the outside. Along the walls were bunk beds stacked in towers of five, and hammocks were stretched between the towers and the walls where no more could fit. Along the centre of the room ran long tables flanked by benches, and the hall ended in a great hearth at the far end where a massive clay pot stood steaming. A number of the bunks spawned heads, and from every corner of the room came more children to marvel at the stranger. Fei and Ming tried to shepherd them back to their beds.
“You can either go outside and play, or stay inside and sleep! There’s no middle ground!” Fei scolded as she pulled one of the more enthusiastic children by the arm back to the bunks, the boy crying all the while.
”Are all of these… Her children?” Arya asked, bewildered.
“Not all of them,” Fei replied as she pushed another flock outside. “While the majority are hers, these are all children that were either unwanted, orphaned or somehow left without a willing caretaker. So yeah, by majority, I mean that there are, maybe, four or five that are not hers.” She clapped her hands free of dust and bowed to Arya. “By the way, I am Wen Fei, third daughter of Wenbo. I manage this orphanage.”
”Orphanage… Interesting.” Arya murmured as she looked around at all the small faces.
“I would have gone with ‘stressful’, but interesting comes close, too, I suppose,” she agreed and took a seat by the table, gesturing for Arya to do the same. Ming remained standing. Four children, three boys and a girl, came over and sat down next to Fei, opposite of Arya. Their eyes looked everywhere but to the front. Fei frowned. “Lady Arya, let me present the eldest children of Song and Urangtai: Gan, Yongbei, Ulagan and Nuya. Say hello now, children.”
In quiet, empty voices, the four bowed their heads slightly and whispered, “Hello…” Fei sighed.
Arya sat awkwardly at the small table and on the chair, but smiled at the children, even if they would not look upon her. ”Hello Gan, Yongbei, Ulagan and Nuya. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Arya, sister of Lord Wenbo and Lady Ai and your great-aunt. I’ve come to help.”
The children were silent. Fei groaned. “What do we say when someone offers help?” Eventually, the one introduced as Gan muttered a faint “thanks…” Fei took him by the ear and he repeated himself louder. The other children bowed their heads slightly.
At the display, Arya stared daggers into Fei. ”You may leave, niece.” she said softly.
Fei blinked. “Huh? Why me?”
”They won’t talk to me if you are standing over them and chiding them to speak. Now please, go.” she said.
Fei scoffed, looked to Ming and found no support in the general’s eyes. She got to her feet and walked outside with a surly demeanour. The children all sat with pursed lips and shifty eyes.
Once she was gone, Arya clapped her hands together and immediately the room popped with uncanny warmth. The temperature did not rise, but the hearts of the little dreamers would see Arya in a new light. She was no longer some odd stranger, but a beacon of kindness in the dark waters that surrounded them and clouded their vision. Ease and tension, slowly drifted away as emotions began to rise.
”I understand your sadness and your anger.” she began, ”Please… Speak to me, let it all out.” she said warmly.
“Why?!” Yongbei suddenly shouted, scaring his siblings.
”A question we all ask, Yongbei.” Arya said.
“Wha-?”
“That’s dumb,” Ulagan muttered.
”Is it?” she asked. ”Now, your mother… What can you tell me about her?” she asked softly.
The children grew ever gloomier. Nuya began to sob and Yongbei crossed his arms furiously across his chest. Gan stood up and walked away. Ulagan glared at Arya and said, “We don’t talk about her.”
”I see.” she said, sympathising with them as she watched Gan leave. ”You know… My father kicked me out of my home. It was cruel and mean and I did not understand. You have my sympathy children. We don’t have to talk about your mother, not unless you want to.” Arya then reached across the table and wiped a few tears away from Nuya’s eyes. ”It’ll be okay, little sunshine.”
“Why did your dad make you leave?” Nuya mumbled through the sobs.
”He did not know how to love, and he was afraid that he would never be good enough for me.”
“That’s dumb,” Ulagan interjected angrily. “Why was he not good enough?”
She turned to Ulagan, ”He was though, Ulagan. It was his own self worth that kept him from being able to see that he was good enough. It wasn’t instantly, but a long time and when he finally found me again… He apologized for what he had done.”
“How long?” the boy snarled back, scraping cuts in the tabletop with his fingernail. Yongbei and Nuya sat wordlessly and stared at their laps.
”As long as it took.” Arya said, staring at his hands.
“How long?!” Ulagan snarled again. Nuya began to sob again and Yongbei got up and left.
”I’m going to go find out.” Arya said, standing up. She turned to face Ming, her expression wordlessly blank. The room’s strange warmth, returned to normal.
The general uncrossed her arms and put one hand on the pommel of her blade, bowing. “My lady?”
”Take me to Song.” she said, the kindness in her voice absent as she looked ahead.
Ming sighed. “My lady, are you certain?”
”No, but now I have too.” she put simply.
Ming bowed curtly. “As the lady wishes.” She turned to the door and went outside, Arya following along. The pair made their way to the far right side of the turtle where the dust in the streets was thick and the sounds of children laughing and playing were distant. They zig-zagged past empty houses waiting to be filled with new Dreamer families in time, god-built shelter that was resistant to the elements, but not to insect infestations. Eventually, they came upon a house which made itself unique in that it had a guard outside. She perked to her feet as she spotted the general and bowed.
“At ease, dear niece,” Ming replied. “Is she awake?” Jianbing eyed the door briefly. “Yes, general. At least, she was a moment ago.”
“Very good. Take a break, initiate.”
“R-really, general?”
“Yeah, go get yourself some supper. I hear Wen Bei will be making beef noodles at her stall. Hurry along if you want to get some before it runs out.”
Without a word, the initiate set off on a sprint back to the livelier part of town. Ming made a short-lived smile before eyeing the door again. She turned to Arya and said, “I will be here if you need me. I don’t know what you have in mind for her, but… I trust you’ll do your best.”
”I hope so.” Arya whispered, entering into the house after a brief pause.
The inside was black as night save for the dimmed evening light passing through woven linen curtains. There was an awful congregation of rank sweat, rotting food and other bodily odours cursing the air. From what Arya’s divine vision could see, the house was largely empty save for a table, a chair, empty wine pots and the faint contour of a bed towards the back behind a wall. Before she could close the door, there came a voice:
“Leave.”
Arya ignored the voice and took another step inside. A clay pot shattered against the wall a distance away.
“LEAVE!”
She did not flinch as the pot shattered. ”Song…” Arya said sadly. ”Please, let me help you.” Her foot squeezed some rotten food.
Song spat. “Is ‘go away’ any clearer?!” Another pot smashed against the wall, this one slightly closer to Arya. “GO AWAY!”
”No, I won’t. I’m going to stay here and help you. Because I haven’t been able to help anyone else, and I’m not going to leave knowing that you are wasting your life away, while your children need their mother.” she said, balling her fists while only slightly raising her voice.
“STOP! STOP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” More pots smashed apart, this time at the floor around Arya’s feet. One or two actually hit her directly. Song was standing now, a starved skeleton of a Dreamer with black, ruined locks of hair and a weakened body wrapped in rags. Her breathing was heavy, as if throwing things made her winded. “SNAP OFF! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!”
”Why don’t you care, Song? Please, I just want to know. You don’t know me, but I want you to know, that I care for you.” Arya said, taking a step closer.
Song picked up the stool by the table and swung it in the air. “I don’t need your PITY!” She swung at Arya. Arya paused and blinked as she dodged the swing. Oddly, it went by very slowly. ”You… Are correct, Song.” she said, taking a step back.
“SHUT. UP!” Song took another swing. “Why?! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!” At this point, she was slowly moving the stool through the air in a manner that could possibly be a threat to a pillar of dry sand.
Deftly, Arya grabbed the stool in the air, preventing Song from swinging it. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead narrowed her eyes in thought and said nothing. As gently as she could, Arya took the stool from Song.
Weeks of neglecting to eat and drink properly had finally caught up with her, and Song collapsed forward against Arya, hammering weakly at her torso. “Snap oooout… Get the snap oooouuut!”
After a moment of letting her hit her, Arya reached out and embraced Song into a warm hug. Song seemed too weak to resist, though she still kept screaming for Arya to let her go and leave. As the hug lasted, she began to sob and beg to be alone. She eventually tried to lie and say that she felt all better, only to break back into furious scolding when it didn’t work. And still she hugged Song, something compelling her to hold the girl against her torso. She realized that before Song could even think about helping others, she had to help herself first. She slowly began to run her fingers in her hair, combing what she could.
Eventually, Song whimpered, “Why do you torment me so?”
Still Arya said nothing. She thought hard however, and from her fingertips, a small glowing comb appeared. It’s purpose, to comb hair, was but a side effect to what else it caused. It had a small aura of compassion, that only worked when hair was being combed. It was her first artifact and it seemed right.
“What makes you think you can just, just waltz into my home - not even my home - the house they threw me in and think that you can just--” She made another attempt to push and pull herself loose. “I hate you! Go snap yourself! Go--!” She coughed and swallowed her curses.
”Let it all out Song.” Arya whispered, while holding back her own tears.
“Who do you even think you are?! I am royal blood and you have NO right to, to, to… To treat me this way!”
”A friend.” she said simply, at last combing the entirety of her hair. It was then she let go of Song and held her by her upper arms. She still tried to wriggle herself loose.
“A friend?! What sort of friend ignores my demands to leave me alone, traps me in a hold and then so selfishly tells me to talk about my feelings as if they’re not for me to keep!” She tried to form a ball of phlegm in her dry mouth, but failed. “You, you are a pest. Leave. Me. Be!”
She let go of the girl, her arms falling to her side as she clutched the small comb. She shrugged and went about, beginning to clean up the place with unnatural speed.
Song watched in disbelief. “Are you deaf, is that it? Did they send me a deaf servant in hopes that it would cure my heartache?”
She continued to clean, by picking up the broken pottery and rotten food and placing it into a pile by the door. All the while she listened to Song. So it was heartache. Fei had said a name… Urangtai. Something had happened to him, for she knew he was no longer with the living. Yet, still she said nothing.
Song kept a surly glare and slowly made her way back to bed. “Well, whatever it is, feel free to leave at your earliest convenience.” She laid down on the wooden bed with a creak. “I will die here, alone and unloved. There is no other fate for me.”
Arya continued to clean, occasionally glancing back at Song with wondering eyes. She felt unloved? Alone? It seemed hardly possible in such a place, but who was she to judge such a thing? Song was deeply hurting and no one knew what to do, not even her really.
“Are you done yet?” came an eventual complaint.
”No.” was all she said.
“Well, hurry up. Night is approaching.” The outside was indeed getting rather dim.
”That it is.” she said back to her.
There came no answer. Song laid in bed facing the wall, angry breathing being the only sound she made. After a time, she began to sob.
Sensing this, Arya stopped cleaning and went over to the bed, sitting down next to her. It was probably the last place Song wanted her, but Arya knew she was close. So, she began to hum a tune, one that was Dreamer in origin, called the ‘Summer’s Heart’. She forgot who wrote it, save only that it was a long time ago. Back when her siblings had been teenagers. Many a tear, back on Tendlepog, had been shed while she hummed.
After a while and a number of sniffs, Song asked, “What song is that?”
”Summer’s Heart.” Arya said after a pause.
Song swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve never heard that one before… At least, no one’s sung it in my presence.” A moment passed. “Why have you come here?”
”I wanted to see my niece.” she said.
“That’s it?” came a sour reply. “You wanted to see the niece you have maybe seen once or twice before? Why?”
”Because she is suffering, and it breaks my heart to know it.” she said softly.
“Of course, I’m suffering! The love of life is gone!” She curled up into a ball. “How can I go on? The father of my forty children and the reason I exist - gone.”
”How did he pass?” she asked gently.
“He--...” The sobbing worsened to the point where she couldn’t speak. “Go away…”
”I’m sorry… That was insensitive.” Arya sighed.
“Go awaaaay…”
Arya stood up and wiped herself off. She walked over to the door, but before she opened it she turned her head and said, ”Thank you for your time, Song. If it all you want to talk… Just pray to me.” she said solemnly, before opening the door and leaving her behind.
There came no answer save for sobbing. Outside, Ming was waiting faithfully along with Jianbing. As Arya closed the door behind her, the general and the soldier both bowed.
“How did it go, my lady?” Ming asked.
”About as well as you probably expected.” Arya sighed. ”Her grief and sense of self worth are low, and she believes herself to be alone, and uncared for. She loved Urangtai deeply, didn’t she?” Arya asked.
“Love doesn’t come close to it. She was fanatical. Clung to him like a tick wherever he went.”
“We eventually pieced together that she likely got some help from Their Holiness Yullian in actually making Urangtai fall in love with her again. How they did it, we still don’t know, but… Well, it’d be hard to fall in love with, well…” Jianbing shut herself up and put her hands innocently behind her back upon seeing Ming’s glare.
“Either way, my lady, we must return to the city. Lord Wenbo has already made preparations for tonight’s concert.”
”This is concerning news… It would have been nice knowing that, going into this… But for now, go tell my brother I’ve been delayed. I’ll need to go get my people ready! It shouldn’t be long.” she said, beginning to take off.
“Snap, she can fly?!” Jianbing yelled after her.
“Ssh! Not so loud. Stay at your post until your replacement arrives.”
“When’s that?”
“Shouldn’t be too long now. Just make certain she doesn’t, y’know…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jianbing replied knowingly and saluted. Ming saluted back and went off back to the city.
Night had fallen and most of the children had gone to sleep. Torches lit up occasional areas of the city, but it was largely cast in darkness - except for the right gate. It was open and surrounded with flickering torches. On the beach below, a number of Dreamers dressed in their finest clothing had brought morin khuurs, guqins and drums. They were tuning their instruments, lead by Batbayaar and Wen Bei. Bows sawed at the strings and sticks hammered against drumskins. Batbayaar and a few others unleashed the gentle bass of kargyraa throat song while the women backed up with the lighter khoomei. They tried to practice as much as possible before the Nebulites arrived.
And arrive they did, up above the trees and through the forests, tall, exotic beings, wearing simple garments in tow. With them they rough baskets of food and other crafting items. At the forefront, was Arya. With her was a man and woman, who more closely resembled the Dreamers, then they did the other Nebulites, and upon closer inspection, there were many more intertwined in the group.
It was time for the festival to begin.
Dreamers arrive at the Eye. An expedition lead by Wang and Ming heads out. They meet Nebbies. The Babblefish helps them bridge the communication gap. They head into Nebby lands and meet Arya. Arya’s happy to see them. Arya comes back to Chuanny with them. Arya meets Wen De, Doctor Zhou and Wenbo. Wenbo is syyiiick, so they have tea. They catch up, talk about this and that, Arya learns about Song and wants to help out. Wenbo says that’s a touchy ass subject and instead invites her to a music festival. Arya agrees and says she wants to help Song again. Wenbo reluctantly agrees and Arya is then taken to see Song’s kids. As expected, kids who have been thrown out by their mom are not really keen on talking about said mom, so Arya doesn’t get much out of them. She goes to Song and says she wants to help her. Song is depressed af and tells her to leave. Arya is stubborn and doesn’t leave. It takes a while for Song to stop throwing things at her and eventually, she is trapped in Arya’s hug. This does not spark joy, as Song keeps struggling until she is released again. She goes to bed and Arya cleans up her house, which is filthy, by the way. After a moment, Song slowly opens up and Arya instantly drops the “so, how’d your husband die, eh?” Song’s confidence is shattered and she tells Arya to get out. Arya does so and she and Ming head to the festival instead.
Arya and Laurien;
0MP & 4FP
-1MP(Discounted through Compassion) to create a small, glowing comb of white. It soothes those being brushed.
Member
Kangutso
Lord Zee
Dinh AaronMk
Timemaster
Lunamaria Hawke
Taeryn
Nallore
Sigma
ButtsnBalls
